


You Smiled Because You Knew

by ellerean, Fim (damaskino)



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-04
Updated: 2014-06-20
Packaged: 2017-12-28 10:35:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 30,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/991034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellerean/pseuds/ellerean, https://archiveofourown.org/users/damaskino/pseuds/Fim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rin's a florist, and Haru's an art student who keeps coming to his flower shop. Rin has no idea what to make of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> FANART FOR THIS FIC *flails* I love you all.  
> [monster-monitor](http://letsswimtogethernanase.tumblr.com/post/85720328568)  
> [notanaveragesidekick](http://notanaveragesidekick.tumblr.com/post/89728013507)  
> [littletornviolet](http://littletornviolet.tumblr.com/post/91120217862)  
> [zzoffer](http://zzoffer.deviantart.com/art/You-Smiled-Because-You-Knew-576673553)

_He’s been sitting there for about two hours now._

There was a guy—probably a college student—who had tucked himself behind the asters and was sitting on the ground with a sketchbook. This was the second day he’d done this. Yesterday, he’d sat in front of the sweet peas for an entire afternoon.

Normally, Rin wouldn’t be this bothered. People came into his shop all the time just to stare at the flowers, and while it’d be nice if everyone who visited was also a prospective customer, it wasn’t all that uncommon. But the one in his shop right now never said a word and barely even acknowledged Rin’s presence at all. It was also Tuesday, and he never got many customers on Tuesdays, so it was just him and the artist stewing in silence. He couldn’t stand it.

Would it kill him to at least…look in Rin’s direction?

In the next half hour, Rin rearranged his cash register and sorted out a new shipment of flowers with as much noise and large gestures as he could. He felt ridiculous while he did it but he was also pretty sure he had a dumb, inexplicable need to be acknowledged in the stupidest of situations. Like this one.

The boy behind the asters looked at him maybe once when he dropped a large bag of soil onto his counter with a huff and made several loose metal things fall over and clang loudly. And then he went straight back to his sketchbook.

For the rest of the day, Rin moped in the corner and made at least twice his daily quota of bouquets.

(He then realized that most of them would probably go to waste now and despaired.)

***

Today it was chrysanthemums, and while the taciturn boy sat in front of the flowers, Rin glared holes into them behind him. Thankfully, Wednesdays meant that one of the country clubs down the road had their weekly meeting, so he could at least distract himself by making arrangements with the lady in charge of the orchestration. She was always very specific and kept him on the phone with her for an hour, but Rin was almost thankful for the excuse to work.

Of course, she wanted chrysanthemums this week.

Part of Rin was weirdly excited and another part actually had the gall to be nervous. He wasted the first moments after hanging up just staring in the direction of the flowers he’d been glaring at earlier.

 _What the fuck are you waiting around like an idiot for,_ he screamed internally and almost slapped himself.

He walked over to the chrysanthemums as casually as he could and studied them, finally deciding on a few that he took off the shelf. And then— _casually_ —he spared a glance for the guy sitting by them.

Rin had to force himself to keep a neutral face when he saw the wide-eyed expression the guy was giving him.

He still wasn’t saying anything.

“Um,” Rin started, and damn it what did he mean with that pleading expression? “Were you drawing these?” Obviously, because looking down at his sketchbook, Rin could see that the boy had been drawing the exact cluster he’d just taken away.

Slowly, Rin put them back and took the ones in the other corner. The boy took one look at the flowers and just stared at him.

“Oh, um, they were like this, right?” Rin said, and rotated the flowers he’d put back to the left.

But the look was still unsatisfied, so he inched them slightly to the right.

Clearly he was a failure anyway, because the boy sighed and got up, rearranging the flowers by himself.

“Ah,” Rin said stupidly.

“Thanks,” was the only reply before he went back to sketching again and Rin awkwardly scuffled off to the side to make the damn chrysanthemum arrangements.

 _What what what what,_ he had no idea what just happened and felt like banging his head on the wall. And when his cellphone rang suddenly, he almost dropped the flowers in his arms.

“Gou?”

_“Brother! I’m coming over in a few minutes!”_

“…Why?”

_“I need a favor!”_

“And here I thought maybe you just wanted to see your brother.”

Gou ignored him. _“One of my friends wants to ask this girl out and I said it’d be really sweet if he gave her flowers and that you’re a florist so can you make him a nice bouquet for her?”_

“I’m a little busy right now…”

_“Please? Just something really quick, it doesn’t have to be fancy!”_

“I—”

 _“Thanks, you’re the best!”_ The line went dead before Rin could say anything else.

He groaned and set everything down, postponing his job to make the cheesiest bouquet he could come up with. Gou burst in the shop not five minutes later.

“You’re the best brother, you know that?”

He sighed and continued cutting the stems of the flowers he’d picked. “So are you going to be paying for these for him?”

His sister gave him those awful, awful puppy eyes and wheedled, “Free of charge? For the best sister?”

Rin rolled his eyes. “When was the last time I got anything free from you?”

“Isn’t me visiting you enough?”

“You have ulterior motives, this doesn’t count.”

Rin thought he might have heard soft laughter coming from the direction of the chrysanthemums, but before he could think about it, the door of the shop swung open again and a tall, kind-looking man walked in. He gave a cheerful greeting to the two at the counter before going straight to the artist on the ground.

“Haru-chan,” he said, “did you forget that you said you’d help me babysit today?”

The boy (Haru, apparently) frowned up at him. “No.”

“There’s only fifteen minutes before we have to go over.”

“I was leaving soon.”

The tall one chuckled and scratched his head. “Well, might as well come with me now, right?”

Haru wordlessly gathered up his pencils and books in his bag and got up, exiting the store.

After they were gone, Gou sidled up to him with a wicked grin on her face. “So…who was that?”

Rin blinked. “I don’t know.”

“Really? Because you were staring at him the whole time.”

“I—I was _not_.”

“Oooh. ’Course not, silly me.”

“He’s just been coming in here for the past three days to draw flowers.”

“Hm.”

“I’ve barely even talked to him.”

“Mhmmm.”

“Dammit Gou just take these flowers to loverboy and leave me alone.”

“Which loverboy are we talking about here?” she poked his cheeks and Rin realized he was completely red in the face. He glared down at the flowers in his hands and hastily wrapped them up.

“Just take these.”

He could feel Gou’s teasing eyes on him as she walked out the door, and this time he really did slap his face, willing the heat to go down.

***

Thursday it was morning glories. Friday it was purple lilacs.

Saturday, he didn’t come at all and Rin thought what he felt was probably disappointment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, it's Fim! I've always loved flower shop and artist AU's, so that's how this happened. I'm the opposite of an expert in flowers though, so although I did some research, please let me know if I got something totally wrong! (and sorry this chapter is so short, the others will be longer probably)


	2. Chapter 2

Rin tried to pretend he wasn’t completely preoccupied with the boy who had filled the corners of his shop for five days, but when he didn’t come back on Sunday either, he noticed. Sorely.

That’s okay, Rin rationalized subconsciously. Maybe he had, like…friends yesterday. It was Saturday, so he’d probably made plans with people or something (of course, this just reminded Rin that all he did yesterday was sit in his shop and sell flowers). And maybe he just didn’t do anything on the weekends, like teachers. And students. And the majority of the middle class workforce.

And anyway, who cared about the Haru guy’s work schedule?

He grabbed his scissors with more force than necessary and measured out some ribbon.

And even if his schedule was totally different, what did it matter to Rin? Rin was a florist. A respectable, manly florist who took the oath of a long line of florists to never get caught up in his customers’ dealings because did you know that the consumers of flowers are typically emotional shits? Except Haru wasn’t really a consumer, so he didn’t count. Probably. But he also had no right to be running around his head like that because Rin was _not_ an emotional shit and none of this made any sense.

“If you’re done sulking over flowers, can I remind you that it’s time to close up?” Gou’s voice broke into his thoughts suddenly and his head jerked to the side.

“When did you get— I’m not sulking over flowers!”

“Sure. That artist guy didn’t come today either?”

“I—you expect me remember everyone who comes in this shop?”

“He didn’t, did he.”

“…No.”

Gou giggled and pat him on the shoulder. “It’s okay, I’m sure he’ll come around sooner or later.”

Rin frowned and locked up for the day, but not before staring some more at the corners Haru had sat in and subjecting himself to more of Gou’s teasing.

***

Monday, and still nothing. Rin started jumping to conclusions by the time Tuesday rolled by and still nothing happened ( _what if he thinks the shop is dumb, what if I said something, what if he’s sick, what if he got hit by truck)_. On the off hand, he also got increasingly more frustrated with himself because he’d been running this shop for years now, so why did the absence of one person he’d barely even talked to bother him so much?

Haru didn’t show up for the rest of the week either, and by the time it was Sunday again, Rin had given up. It was time to think about things that directly pertained to his well-being. Like food. Food was far more important than this. So on his way back from work, he stopped by the market to stock up on groceries.

He greeted the old lady by the produce who’d always smiled at him since he was child, and pushed a cart to the back, where the meat was. As he went, he nearly bumped into a tall guy who looked suspiciously like the one who had picked up Haru that one day.

“Ah, sorry,” the man apologized and bowed quickly before running off, seemingly searching for someone.

That should have been his first warning, but Rin always had a one-track mind, so he shrugged off his suspicions and continued browsing. There was a sale on the Angus, but not on the spare ribs, but he kind of wanted chicken this week. Maybe he should check if there was any decently-priced seafood. He decided to check the aisle out before committing to anything.

It turned out that there _was_ a discount on salmon, but a giggling couple took the last package right before he got there, so he huffed in annoyance and looked around the empty bin. They actually had eel this time, but no sales on that one. He let out a sigh, because he hadn’t had eel in years because of its pricey-ness. Why was seafood all so expensive?

He was so deep in thought that he was caught completely and totally off-guard when he looked up. Suddenly, he was face-to-face with the very person he’d been thinking about for the last week, nearly making him drop the package of shrimp he’d picked up.

_Haru?_

“Hi.” Rin said the first thing that came into his mind. The boy stared back at him.

He hadn’t really taken in the quiet artist’s appearance before, but now that he was right in front of him, Rin was noticing everything all at once. _Everything,_ from his pale trench coat and casually-wrapped scarf to his soft, black hair and smooth skin and beautiful, clear, blue eyes and—he almost hid his face in embarrassment.

_What the hell am I even thinking?_

He breathed shakily in a pitiful attempt slow his racing heart down. “You’re the one…who was drawing things in my shop last week.”

“Ah. Yeah,” the boy replied, and Rin wanted to cry because he was being so awkward that he was surprised Haru hadn’t just walked away by now.

At this point, Rin’s brain was so tied up that it failed to filter anything so just he blurted out, “Why didn’t you come this week?”

_Ohgod ohgod ohgod why did you say that you’re such a loser what the fuck what the fuck—_

Haru gave him a small grin that was almost…cheeky. “Did you want me to?”

Rin nearly fell over. “I—what—what do you mean, I—n-NO!” he sputtered and turned around as quickly as he could, throwing the shrimp into his cart and fast-walking away. No shame in fleeing. No shame.

… No, there was definitely enough shame in him to make him want to curl under a blanket and never come out again.

He paid for the shrimp and shuffled out of the market as fast he could, almost forgetting to wave goodbye to the produce lady. She gave him a questioning look at his obviously flustered state, but he just laughed nervously and ran out. The entire bus ride home had him rubbing furiously at his face and hitting his forehead against the window, earning him some really cautious glances from the people around him.

It wasn’t until he got home that he realized he hadn’t bought nearly enough food to last him the week.

Fuck all this. He was going straight to bed.

***

Rin had hoped that a good night’s sleep would help him get over the confusion from yesterday, but all the memories hit him like a truck as soon as he woke up. He trudged to work and went about his day with a cloud over his head, burying himself in the flowers so he could push those thoughts to the back of his mind.

At least it was a busy day, so he went from order to order with as much single-minded concentration as he could.

 _Sunflowers for the lady on 5 th Street, snowdrops for the guy who works for the printing company…what the hell, snowdrops? _Rin made a note to remind himself to call the man to tell him that snowdrops didn’t bloom until _November_ and he had no idea why he hadn’t realized this issue sooner. But he went to work on the sunflowers, taking out a larger razor to cut the thick stems. The lady wanted these as soon as possible, so he had to get them ready fast.

…Which was never a good idea, because he ended up nicking his finger on the blade.

“Ah, SHIT,” he muttered through gritted teeth. He grabbed the finger with his other hand and bent down to look for bandaids.

No first-aid kit anywhere.

“Ugh, where did I put that…” Rin stood up quickly to head to the back room or something, but right as he turned, he saw someone standing at the counter in front of him. Someone really, miserably familiar.

“You!” he screeched. This couldn’t be real.

“Me,” the illusion echoed.

It had to be a hallucination. He was imagining things. Clearly, Rin had gone crazy in the past few days because there was no way that was Haru standing in front of him like there was absolutely nothing out of place in this picture.

“Ah,” was all Rin could manage.

The face that may or may not have been a figment of his imagination shifted his gaze to his finger. “You’re bleeding.”

Rin jolted, remembering the pain in his finger all of a sudden. “Oh—I just—was gonna go find a bandaid or something—”

Haru pointed to something behind him. “You mean in the first-aid kit on your wall?”

“Aha… yeah that one, I’ll, um, be right back.” He spun around, grabbed the container and ran to the back room.

After cleaning his cut and plastering a bandage over his finger, Rin walked back out tentatively, to ascertain whether the other boy was still there or not.

He was.

Ohgod, he hadn’t imagined it. Why was he here. Hadn’t Rin embarrassed himself enough already?

“Haha, sorry about that!” he said as nonchalantly as he could as he went back to the counter. “Was there something you needed? I’m Matsuoka Rin, by the way.”

“Nanase Haruka. You said you didn’t want me to come, so I thought I would just to spite you.”

So that’s what his name actually was. Wait—“I didn’t mean it like that!” Rin couldn’t tell if the other boy was being serious or not; his face was completely deadpan and unreadable. He had never been good at patching up situations, so he just made frantic motions with his arms. “I just—You can come here whenever you want!”

Shit, was that too unnatural? It was a normal thing for a shopkeeper to say, right?

Haruka just smiled softly, and his heart felt lighter.

Rin watched him sit by the asters again and take out his sketchbook. He looked at home among the purple flowers, and Rin admired the pretty picture for a few moments before remembering the sunflowers he had to take care of.

“So are you an art student, Nanase-kun?” Rin finally gathered the courage to ask as he arranged the flowers.

“Mm.” Haruka set his pencil down and looked at him.

“That’s…cool. You must be really good, then.”

The artist shrugged and leaned back. “So how did you get into floristry?”

“Well,” Rin began, though judging by the boy’s face, he wasn’t sure if he was actually interested or not, “this used to be my father’s shop. And my grandfather’s before him. It’s kind of a family business, I guess. My father taught me from when I was young and I enjoyed it so I took over after he passed away.”

“Sorry.”

“About what?”

“Your father.”

Rin’s hands stilled. “Oh. Well…it was long time ago.”

Haruka looked as if he was evaluating his face for a few seconds before shrugging.

Clearly this guy wasn’t much of a talker. “What about you? Do you go to the university down the road?”

“Mhm.”

Rin wracked his brain, but that was the end of any conversational topics he could think of. This was exhausting. Putting the flowers aside, he picked up the phone. “Hold on a sec, I have to give someone a call.”

The boy nodded and went back to his sketchbook.

 

***

To Rin’s surprise, Haruka visited the next day too. And the next. For the rest of the week, the artist would walk into his shop after classes and sit in the same corner. He didn’t talk much—not at all, some days—but he seemed content just to listen to the florist speak.

Rin found that he actually enjoyed the boy’s quiet presence now that the silence wasn’t as awkward and suffocating. Sometimes the artist would walk over to watch him work on an order and just hover by the counter, and all of his regular customers recognized him now. One of the elderly ladies had immediately remarked on how pretty his new friend was, going up to Haruka and pinching his cheeks. He’d never seen anyone’s eyes alone give such a desperate cry for help before.

Even Gou dropped by one day and pulled him aside to whisper, “See, I told you he’d be back!” He had shaken her off indignantly. Because _Haruka could be in earshot, shut up._

Before he realized it, it was Monday again. The artist had made himself at home in his corner, just like all the other days, sketching while Rin took care of his orders. It had been a slow day because of the rough weather.

“How was class?” Rin asked him while he arranged a gift basket.

“Fine. My professor liked the flowers, but I have to do something else for my final project.”

“Oh. You mean the ones you were drawing two weeks ago?”

“Mhm.”

“Maybe you should draw people with flowers,” he joked.

Haruka gave him a look that Rin was still no closer to being able to read. “I don’t draw people.” He gripped his sketchbook tightly to his chest.

“I was joking.”

“Hm.”

He was staring intently at the basket Rin was working on, and by this point, the florist could at least tell when the boy was interested and just not saying anything. He pulled it over to him and picked up some of the lilies.

“I’m doing a radial design for this one…think I might add some carnations.”

Haruka watched him wordlessly like he had for the past few days.

“See, everything circles outward from the leaves in the middle. And I have to reinforce some of these stems with wires before I put them in the flower foam. Do you think I should add lace?”

He got a clear look of “why would you ask me” for his question.

Then Haruka’s phone rang, which startled Rin because he didn’t think he’d ever seen the other boy on his phone before. The artist looked just as surprised when he picked up the call.

Rin went back to his flowers so as not to eavesdrop on their conversion, but he looked up when he heard Haruka throwing on his coat and saw him heading briskly for the door. His shoes made hurried squeaks on the wet floor.

“Wait, it’s rain—”

Then he was gone.

“…ing.”

And he didn’t bring an umbrella.

Rin sighed when he saw that Haruka had also been in so much of a hurry that he’d left his sketchbook lying on his seat. As he got up to take it in for safekeeping, he was swamped with curiosity. He’d never actually seen what the guy had been drawing this whole time, and it couldn’t hurt to just take a peek, right…?

He opened the book up to the most recently used page and almost dropped everything when he saw what was drawn on it, inhaling sharply and flipping backwards with fervor. His eyes raced as he took in every page until he hit the front cover.

Slowly, he closed the book and set it down.

_You don’t draw people, huh?_


	3. Chapter 3

He’d spent the last few hours not being able to stop himself from looking at the drawings over and over again. At least a dozen pages were filled with sketches of himself, most of them depicting him cutting flowers or wrapping them in bouquet. Some were close-ups of his face, and a few of them were beautifully colored with pastels. Rin’s heart pounded as he studied the drawings and noticed that each one had an airy grace about them. He felt wonder and embarrassment all at once.

Why had Haruka drawn so many pictures of him?

It was before Rin was about to close for the day that he heard the door swing open, and he nearly jumped out of his seat when he saw who it was.

Haruka was standing there with his head down and drenched in rainwater. There was dead silence between them as Rin stared, unsure of what to say.

“You left your sketchbook here,” he stated as Haruka walked up to him. He pulled out the sketchbook gracelessly and handed it to the artist, who accepted it with a grim face.

The silence continued and Rin fidgeted as he waited for the other boy to say something. When he finally did, his voice wavered and it was so soft that Rin wouldn’t have caught it if it hadn’t been completely quiet in the store. “Did you look in it?”

Blue eyes stared into his as he gulped. “…A little.”

Haruka’s entire body tensed before he looked down again, and Rin flushed when he saw that the artist’s cheeks were tinged with pink.

“Why did you draw me?” he ventured and immediately regretted it because the other boy curled into himself even more and looked as if he was going to bolt at any second.

“I don’t…know, really.” He shifted so his bangs covered his eyes and Rin couldn’t see his expression. “Sorry. I’ll stop.”

“No!” the florist blurted and it must have startled Haruka because he snapped his head up and looked at him with wide eyes. “I mean. It’s okay.”

The artist stayed quiet, and Rin couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “They were really good. The drawings, I mean. I wouldn’t mind if you drew me more. I’ve never had anyone draw me before and I liked them a lot, so…”

There was silence in the shop again. The florist fiddled with one of the cut stems on his counter and his eyes darted around, not sure where he was trying to take this.

“My final project.”

“Huh?” Rin jumped to attention when he realized that Haruka’s lips were upturned and he was actually looking at him now.

“…Can I draw you for my final project?”

Rin blinked. “I—yeah…sure,” he said after a beat, taken by surprise.

“You’d have to sit a lot.”

“I don’t mind.”

He seemed to relax. Rin was as thankful as he was confused, and he watched in silence as Haruka ripped a piece of paper from his sketchbook and wrote something on it. “That’s the address of the studio I’m using. Are you free tomorrow?”

“I close at 8,” Rin said as he took the paper and tucked it into his pocket.

“Can you come over at 8:30 then? If it’s not too late. Just to start.”

“Sure. I’ll see you then, Nanase-kun.”

The artist looked up at him. “You can call me Haru,” he said after a pause, casting his gaze down and not meeting his eyes. Rin grinned.

“Alright, Haru.”

The artist gave him a small smile before turning and walking out the door, leaving Rin alone to process what just happened.

***

The place that Haru directed him to was surprisingly pretty close to his flower shop, so Rin walked over after locking up the next day. It was only about a ten minute walk, so he could see why Haru found it so easy to just drop by every day. The building itself was nondescript and seemed to be some sort of apartment complex, with a distinct lack of flowers or decorative greenery.

The number on the scrap paper told him to find room 418. When Rin took the elevator to the fourth floor, though, he found that the numbers on the doors ended at 410. He back-tracked and circled around the level in confusion.

There was definitely no room 418 on this floor.

Had Haru set him up? The thought was even more confusing because he couldn’t think of any reason why he might do that. Just to make sure, Rin double-checked the walls for extra doors. Nothing.

He was about to leave in frustration when the elevator dinged and he saw a man walk out. Rin would have ignored him, but he flinched when he realized that this was one of Haru’s friends; the same on he’d seen in his shop and at the market. Why was he here? The man seemed to notice him before Rin could react.

“Oh, hi!” he waved. “You’re the florist who Haru-chan’s been visiting a lot, right?”

“…Yeah, I guess so?” Rin slowly turned to face him but stood rooted in his spot several feet away from the man, who walked right up to him anyway and held out his hand expectantly.

“Nice to meet you! I’m Tachibana Makoto.” The man grabbed the hand that Rin lifted tentatively and shook it with fervor.

“Matsuoka Rin,” he replied, giving the man a weird look because where did he even come from and _why was he here_?

“If you’re looking for Haru-chan’s room, it’s on the other side of the floor but you have to take the other elevator because that side isn’t connected with this one. I can show you there, if you’d like.”

Rin considered his options. The smart thing to do would be to accept the help, but that would put him in a position of someone who needed help and that really rubbed him the wrong way. On the other hand, if he spent more time trying to search for Haru’s room by himself, he’d probably end up being late. So he swallowed his pride and finally detached his hand from Makoto’s grasp. “Okay. Thanks.”

The other man smiled sunnily at him and started walking toward the stairs. Rin would have been content to spend the walk in silence, but Makoto seemed to be one of those naturally sociable people who wouldn’t begin to fathom silence. He turned and waited until Rin was looking at him to say, “Haru-chan’s told me a lot about you!”

“…Really?” Rin was dubious. Haru was as far from sociable as they came and had barely said five words about his life to him.

“Well, he told me who you were, and that’s a lot if we’re talking about Haru-chan.” Makoto laughed lightly, shaking his head. “I’m glad he’s meeting new people though.”

“Guy doesn’t get around much, does he?”

“He’s not shy, he’s just quiet. Usually he just sits in his studio and paints, and I have to drag him out so he doesn’t faint from the fumes or something.”

Rin scoffed. “That bad?”

“Sometimes I think maybe he just likes the smell of turpentine, but that’s ridiculous, right?”

“I’d hope so.”

Makoto laughed with a hint of nervousness. “I found him passed out in front of a canvas one day. That was really scary. But in the end he was just sleeping, and he got mad at me for waking him up.”

It was just like the guy to pull something like that. Rin almost rolled his eyes.

They looped up the stairs on the other side of the third floor and came to a hallway that looked identical to one he had been searching in before. Makoto strolled down to one of the last doors and knocked. “Haru-chan never answers the door,” he said after only a second of pause, putting his hand on the doorknob in a manner that seemed like it had years of practice.

There was a look of surprise on his face when the door opened by itself. Haru stood there in a smock with a brush in one hand, looking equally confused at the sight of the two of them.

“…Makoto? What are you doing here?”

The man in question withdrew his hand and laughed. “Haru-chan! I was just showing Rin where your room was, because he was on my side of the floor.”

Rin bristled. “How was I supposed to know you’re supposed to use the other side?”

“Hm.” Haru stepped to the side to let him in, glancing at Makoto. “Do you need anything else?”

“Nope, I just got back from my last class and saw Rin.”

“Alright. Bye.” The artist gave Makoto a small wave before closing the door.

“He’s not coming in?” Rin asked.

“Why would he?” Haru raised an eyebrow and gave him a weird look. He walked over to a sink and stuck his brush in a jar of some sort before turning the faucet on and grabbing a bar of soap. “I need to clean this brush, can you hold on for a second?”

Rin walked around hesitantly, not sure if he should sit down somewhere or if Haru was one of those artists that flipped their shit if someone touched their workspace.

The studio was surprisingly neat for an artist. He had expected racks of half-finished canvases, scrap paper littering the table or paint spatters on the ground, but the floor was relatively clean and it wasn’t nearly as messy as he’d thought it would be. There was a stool and an easel sitting in the center of room with a chair in front of them, and a window with no curtains looked out onto the night street below.  

A stove and a fridge were tucked into the corners of the far side, and there was even a bed behind a small divide. At this point, Rin realized that this wasn’t really a studio; it was a long, one-room apartment and Haru had turned most of the living space into an art room.

The boy looked over his shoulder at him, probably judging him for standing in one place and just staring at the room. “You can sit on the chair.”

“Oh. Okay.” Rin sauntered over and waited as the artist wrapped the brush in a paper towel and set it to the side.

 “I just want to do some sketches today to get some ideas down. It’ll probably take around half an hour.” Haru picked up a large sketchbook and set it on the easel, sitting on the stool with a set of chalks.

“That’s fine.”

“You can take a break halfway-through. Think you can sit still for fifteen minutes?”

Rin almost laughed. “Of course I can. I was an athlete in high school, you know. I’m not delicate just because I work with flowers.”

“If you say so.”

He side-eyed the artist, who looked rather unconvinced. Fifteen minutes should be nothing, he thought to himself.

“So…you live here?” Rin said after a moment.

“Yeah. I used to room with Makoto on the other side and had this rented out as a work space, but I live here now.”

“Why?”

The artist shrugged and picked up a pastel.  “I feel more at home here. Anyway, please don’t move.”

Rin caught himself leaning forward and sat back, straightening himself and staying as still as possible.

“Relax. You’ll get tired in two minutes with that pose.”

It was looking to be a long half hour after all.

***

For the first fifteen minutes, Rin just sat on the chair and watched Haru draw, trying not to move his head with his eyes. During that time, the artist turned into the strange boy in his shop again, sitting in his corner without a noise. He was as quiet as he was enigmatic; even after the last week, Rin still barely knew anything about him. All he’d gotten was an age group and a major.

And that, apparently, he liked to draw Rin.

Haru made gestures behind the sketchbook and still didn’t say a word, but this time Rin noticed how at peace he looked against the backdrop of his art environment. Haru seemed to revel in silence, like it was part of his nature. It almost made Rin want to jump up or shout or knock his chair over just to get a reaction from the boy, but that’d be inappropriate so he kept his ridiculous urges to himself.

In the second half, the artist made him do different poses every five minutes, ranging from sitting to standing. He’d make him turn his head one way, or shift his arm and hold it in the air while Rin felt the blood drain from it. He had so much more respect for life drawing models now.

By the time Haru said he was done, Rin was exhausted. He got up to stretch and felt the joints in his neck cracking, earning him a grimace from the artist.

“Can I see what you drew?” he asked while Haru was putting his chalks away.

Haru nodded. “They’re probably not going to look like these when I paint them. Especially the last one. The sun salutation pose is pretty silly.”

“Why did you make me do it then?” Rin grumbled, rubbing his forearms to get the blood back into them. Haru just gave him a blank stare, and Rin sighed before walking around to look at the sketchbook.

There were multiple little sketches on the page, with some of them focusing on his face and others just a general outline of his body. Haru’s strokes were light and careful and he didn’t use many colors, but they were stunning regardless.  Rin reached out and touched the paper, careful to not touch the chalk.

Beautiful…Rin couldn’t get over how beautiful they were.

“You’re a really good artist,” He said as Haru watched for his reaction.

_Wow, bravo, kudos to you for your stellar complimenting abilities. Go ahead and state the obvious._

“…Thanks.” Haru took the sketchbook from under his hands and started to put it away. “I prefer the ones in the flower shop, though. You looked more comfortable there.”

“Huh?”

“…Nevermind.”

Rin suppressed a laugh. “Do you want me to bring you flowers next time?” he joked.

“That might work,” Haru replied, completely seriously.

The florist almost choked, but he seemed to not notice as he walked over to a closet to put on some shoes and a coat.

“I’m going out to eat now,” Haru turned back to him and waited.

“Oh.” Rin stood up and threw his own coat on, heading towards the door. “I guess I’ll get going, then. When do you want to meet up next?”

The artist regarded him silently for a moment. Then, “Don’t you want to come with me?”

“Oh.” He felt a little dumb. Clearly he was missing social cues, but this was Haru and he’d beg some leeway here. “That’d be nice.”

Haru smiled, and Rin’s heart jumped a bit. “There’s a seafood diner downstairs and to the right, if you don’t mind that. They stay open pretty late.”

“Sounds fancy.”

“It’s small and not too expensive. I can treat you though, for being my model.”

Rin shook his head vehemently. “No way. We’ll go Dutch.”

“If you say so.” Haru shrugged as he pushed the door open and stepped into the lobby. Rin followed beside him and they walked to the elevator together.

As they went, Rin couldn’t help but marvel at the graceful way the artist walked. He had this air about him that was easy to gloss over, but when you actually watched him, everything about him was elegant and he moved like a small stream.

Rin had tried to ignore it before, but…Haru was honestly really pretty. Not in a girly way, but even his skin was smooth and his hair brushed lightly against his cheeks as he walked. He’d wrapped his scarf around the bottom half of his face to block out the spring chill, and all Rin could see were his eyes.

There were a lot of things to be said about those eyes.

“Argh,” Rin said out loud, and the artist gave him a questioning look. He flushed and turned away. “It’s nothing.”

He slapped a hand over his forehead, even though he knew Haru was watching him, probably judging.

_I should really stop before I dig myself too deep._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long with this chapter! Pokemon was super distracting, and school's going to be keeping me pretty busy too. Hope you enjoyed this chapter though~


	4. Chapter 4

In a couple of weeks, Rin and Haru had fallen into a comfortable routine where Rin would go over to Haru’s apartment whenever they had time, and they’d grab dinner together afterwards. Sometimes, Haru would cook for them and Rin was surprised to learn that he was actually a pretty proficient cook—proficient being a blanket term, since he only ever cooked seafood. Rin suggested a beef or pork dish once. He was given a look, and he couldn’t tell if it meant Haru didn’t know any red meat dishes or if the artist really couldn’t stand anything but fish.

Rin’s seafood intake had definitely increased in past few weeks, anyway.

Haru had also taken to showing up at the shop a few hours before closing, like he had before. Most of his time there was spent either observing or making small sketches, but occasionally he helped Rin move things around the shop. Some of his customers saw him and assumed he was an assistant or a volunteer, and they’d ask him questions only to have Haru stare at them blankly before explaining with the verboseness of a tree stump that he wasn’t an employee. It had gotten to point where, if there was an influx of customers in the shop, he would either shrink into the back room or retreat behind Rin.

At first, he’d cease interaction altogether if the florist questioned his actions, but recently he’d at least look a little guilty or say something to change the subject. Sometimes, they’d actually have mildly engaging conversations. Haru’s deadpan humor was something Rin would never get over, though.

A quiet, level voice broke him out of his thoughts. “It’s six o’clock.”

It was Saturday now, and Haru had been in the shop the entire afternoon.

“Hold up, I’m just going to finish wrapping these up for the day.” Ribbons were the worst part, because scraps tended to get everywhere and it was hard enough cleaning everything else off afterwards. “Sorry, it might take a few minutes. Oh yeah, did we say we’d be drawing today?”

Haru dropped his book into his bag and got up to lean against Rin’s counter. “My friends planned a dinner gathering, actually.”

“Ah. Another time, then.” Rin looked back down to the flowers in his hand. When he thought about it, he couldn’t remember Haru mentioning any friends other than Makoto. He was a little disappointed, and then immediately felt bad because _of course_ Haru had friends and places to be other than hanging around him all the time.

There was a pair of blue eyes in front of him when he looked back, watching him owlishly. “Do you want to come?”

Rin blinked. “Me? I don’t know your friends.”

“You know Makoto.”

“Yeah, barely. I wouldn’t want to intrude.” …He said that, but he was actually pretty curious about what kinds of people Haru called his friends.

“You’d hardly be intruding,” the boy said with a quirk of his mouth. “They’re the type of people who’d jump at meeting someone new.”

 “You sure?”

“Positive. They roped me into their group, anyway.”

Rin had to chuckle at that, imagining a stoic Haru getting pestered into interactions and parties by some faceless but enthusiastic group of people. “Alright. Just let me finish this last one and I’ll close up.”

Haru nodded, setting his bag down to help clean up some of the scraps around him into the garbage. “Most of them will probably be late, anyway.”

It took Rin about fifteen minutes to wrap everything up and make sure everything was set for the night, and then he set out with Haru. The weather was getting warmer now, and people had already started setting up trinket and dessert stands along the street.

“Where are we going?” he asked as he walked beside the boy who had his head turned towards the stands.

“Mm, it’s a restaurant on the other street over,” Haru replied distractedly.

“Seafood?” Rin teased.

“No.” The artist actually looked upset when he admitted it. “It’s a steakhouse.”

A whoop escaped Rin’s mouth at this, and he shot a smug grin at the other boy’s frown. “I’m liking these friends already.”

Haru ignored him and walked faster, which Rin was okay with because that just meant they were getting closer to real meat. It’d be a welcome change from weeks of mostly fish.

***

When they got to the steakhouse, Makoto was already at a table. He waved the two of them over, only looking mildly surprised to see the florist standing beside his friend. Both of them were given warm greetings and a menu, which Haru continued to frown at.

“Nice to see you, Rin!” Makoto said when they both sat down. “Did you guys just come from your shop?”

Rin nodded. “I just closed up, and…”

“I invited him,” Haru said.

Makoto took it all in stride and smiled airily. “The others aren’t here yet, but Nagisa said he’d bring Rei over as soon as he could.” He turned to Rin and informed him, “Rei’s one of Haru-chan’s classmates in the year under us. Nagisa’s his boyfriend.”

Haru leaned against his hand while flipping through the menu. “What’s keeping Rei?”

“I think he was working on his New Media Theory homework.”

“That assignment’s not due until next Thursday,” Haru said without looking up.

Makoto shrugged. “You know how he is.”

Just as he said this, a boy with a shock of curly, blond hair ran up to them with a tall, blue-haired man in red glasses and a button-front shirt trailing behind him.

The first thing the blond one did was reach over and squeeze Haru in a tight hug. “Long time no see, Haru-chan!” He released Haru and did the same thing to Makoto.

“Hello Haruka-senpai, Makoto-senpai,” the one in the glasses straightened up and said, giving a short bow when he regarded Rin.

“Hey, Nagisa.” Haru smiled at the blond boy who was pulling the the taller one into a seat. “Did you finish your homework, Rei?”

Rei pushed his glasses up and sighed. “Unfortunately, no. I have at least three more pages to write, but Nagisa-kun made me come here before I could finish them.”

“You promised!” The one called Nagisa pouted at him and tugged at his sleeve. Then he turned to Rin and looked happier to see him than anyone probably had in Rin’s life. “It’s so great to finally meet you, Rin-chan! Haru-chan didn’t tell me you were coming!” He reached out for his hand and shook it fervently.

Rin blinked. “Wait, you know who I am?”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Rin-chan-san,” Rei added.

“Who—what you do you mean, _chan-san_?”

Rei looked unabashed, and Nagisa just grinned at him fondly while patting Rin’s hand.

Actually, Nagisa looked and sounded really familiar, but he couldn’t put a finger on where he’d seen the hyper-enthusiastic boy before. It was probably going to bother him the whole dinner.

Makoto motioned for the two to sit down and gave them menus to look at. Haru went back to giving the booklet in front of him very disappointed looks.

“Is that everyone?” he said aside to the artist.

“No, we’re waiting for one more person.”

“Oh yeah, what’s keeping her?” Nagisa asked Makoto.

The man checked his phone and frowned. “She hasn’t texted me.”

Nagisa shrugged nonchalantly and turned his attention back to Haru, who was still frowning. “This is your first time here, right? Didja find something you want?”

“Where’s the fish?”

Rin groaned. “Geez, eat something other than fish for once, Haru.”

The boy just gave him an offended look.

“If you’re okay with starving, fine.”

Haru stuck his menu in front of Rin. “Then you order for me. Since you obviously know best.”

“Mm.” Rin tapped his chin in thought as he went to the meat section and said, “You should get the Philly Cheesesteak. And the breadstick side with meat sauce.”

“No.”

“Spare ribs, then. Barbecued.”

Haru pressed his lips together and grabbed the menu back. “I want salmon.”

Rin rolled his eyes. “You _just_ had salmon last night.”

“I want salmon.”

Nagisa giggled, suddenly leaning over towards them. “Are you Haru-chan’s boyfriend?” he asked cheerfully.

Rin gaped. “ _What?!”_

“You two are really cute!” The blond boy gave him a wide grin. “Are you dating?”

“I’m not—we’re—no!” He ducked his head to the side and cursed himself when he felt his face getting warm. What even—where did that even come from? Did they _look_ that close?

“We’re not,” Haru said with a completely neutral expression.

“…Yeah.” Rin confirmed, looking around at anyone but Haru.

Nagisa just laughed. “Aww! You’d be super adorable together, you know.”

Rin gave Nagisa a look that was some variation of uneasy gratitude and stressed confusion, because what was he supposed to say about that? Haru went back to his menu, not nearly as affected by it as he was.

“Leave them alone, Nagisa,” Rei said after a beat, and that was the end of that. “Come pick what you’re going to order.”

Rin unconsciously sighed in relief, glancing around the restaurant in search of something else to look at.

Suddenly, a shock of red hair appeared his field of vision, and he squinted as someone who looked _really fucking familiar_ walked towards the table.

“Sorry I’m late!” Rin stared at the girl as his brain rushed to catch up with his eyes. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting or any—”

“ _Gou?”_  Rin almost jumped out of his seat in shock. His eyes widened and he looked back and forth between his sister, Haru, and the other three.

“—what? Wait. … _Brother?”_ Gou’s jaw dropped. She pointed a finger accusingly at him and just short of screamed, “Why are you here?!”

“You’re asking me?!”  he stared at his sister, and then at the person who had brought him.

“You’re related?” Haru interjected, looking confused.

Both Matsuoka’s turned to look at him. Gou gave both of them a nervous laugh and Rin just nodded incredulously.

“Yeah. Looks like it.” He grabbed his sister’s hand and got up. “Can you just excuse us for a sec, please…?”

Gou scolded him in protest as he dragged her to a corner of the restaurant where the others couldn’t hear them.

“Ow!” She pulled her hand from his grasp and rubbed it. “You’re a real brute, you know?”

“Sorry,” he said with at least a decent amount of apology in his voice. “But—you know them? Since when?”

She looked sheepish. “Well, Nagisa’s one of my classmates…”

“And Haru?” he prodded. “You mean you knew who he was this whole time and didn’t tell me?!”

“Okay, well, he didn’t even recognize me when I was in the shop. He’s kind of an airhead sometimes—”

“How in the world does that logic excuse you—”

“—but at least he’s pretty.”

“…What.”

“You think he’s pretty, right?”

Rin choked. “That—has nothing to do with anything!” he sputtered. “You’re avoiding the question!”

“You didn’t deny it,” his sister wheedled with a knowing grin. “Don’t worry, I won’t steal him from you. I barely talk to him anyway.”

“But you recognized him at the shop weeks ago,” Rin hissed. “And you pretended you didn’t just to screw around with me?”

Gou laughed nervously and looked very pointedly back to the others. “ _Well_ , I think it’s time to get back to everyone, don’t you? It’s rude to keep everyone waiting, you know!”

Before Rin could object further, she had his arm in a vice grip and was leading him to the table where there were four people giving them questioning looks.

“What was that all about?” Rei asked.

 “So Rin, you’re Kou’s brother?” Makoto laughed across the table. “Small world!”

“You guys look a lot like each other!” Nagisa added.

Rin grimaced. “Yeah. A small world after all and stuff.”

Gou only smiled disarmingly before pulling out a chair and sitting down like the former discursion hadn’t happened.

***

There were no more interruptions after that, and the rest of the dinner went relatively smoothly. Haru actually managed to locate salmon on the menu, and Nagisa made sure to recommend at least five different meat dishes to Rin.

It was hard not to enjoy the company of these people. They took his presence in stride and went on conversing as if they’d known him for years.

Gou, on one hand, spent the majority of the dinner whispering to Nagisa on the side. Both of them kept casting furtive glances at him and Haru, making Rin both confused and disturbed. At one point, he thought he heard, _“We could just lock them in a closet”—_ he desperately hoped that he’d heard wrong. (Unfortunately, he knew Gou too well to really convince himself of that.)

Rei actually seemed quite interested in his occupation, though he would ask questions about the inherent beauty of the placement of every flower and then go on about something deep and philosophical that “clearly emphasized the splendor in the structure of societal traditions.” According to him, the arrangement and retail of flowers was symbolic of a larger something that interlaced with the delicate pangs of love and emotions, and the art and language of flowers should be highly respected as one of the most beautiful forms of sculpture.

He wasn’t someone Rin would ever peg for a florist, but at least he was passionate.

At that, Makoto had interjecting with, “Slow down, Rei! That’s a little hard to understand for us who aren’t artists.”

Rin was mildly surprised. “You’re not an artist?” He had kind of assumed that Makoto would be one, just by association with Haru.

The man laughed. “No, I’m majoring in linguistics. Right now though, I’m working towards getting a teaching degree.”

“Wow. What are you planning on teaching?”

“I’m hoping to teach at the elementary school level.” The man smiled and Rin decided that he could definitely see how that would fit.

“Makoto’s good with kids,” Haru supplied.

“Haru-chan’s good with kids too! My little brother and sister love him.”

“Really?” Rin didn’t mean to look so doubtful, but it was hard to imagine Haru doing anything around children other than stare at them impassively.

“He’s really nice to them!” Nagisa piped up across the table. Next to him, Gou was nodding enthusiastically and Rin felt her sending kicks at his shin.

Haru said nothing, just shrugging and going back to his salmon. He was the only one who hadn’t finished his food by now; the boy was a slow eater and Rin was very familiar with that quirk of his. The others seemed content to sit and chat while waiting for him, though eventually Haru said aside to Makoto that it was okay for him to leave if he had to.

Nagisa caught it immediately and sent pleading looks at the man. “Aww, do you really have to go, Mako-chan? I was thinking we could go see a movie after this.”

Makoto shook his head. “I have a lot of homework this weekend, so I can’t stay much longer.” He smiled apologetically. “Sorry! I’ll definitely try my hardest to go with you next time.”

The blond boy deflated with a pout, but quickly brightened up and turned his attention to the rest of the table. “Then you guys can come, right? It’ll be really fun!”

“No,” Rei said immediately, pushing his glasses up and waving the waiter over when he saw Haru had finished his food. “I need to study.”

“What?” Nagisa gave him an incredulous look and clung to his forearm. “No way! You studied all day today!”

“Only for—”

“Shhhhh.” A hand was clasped over Rei’s mouth. “No words. No more thinking about those things, you need to come have fun with us sometimes too.” Some muffled, indignant sounds came from behind Nagisa’s hand. “Please?”

The boy gave him a downright pitiful look and Rin could just see the protest in Rei’s eyes die a struggling death. He sighed in resignation and pulled the hand away from his mouth. “Fine.”

He received a crushing hug from Nagisa in thanks. “You’re the best, Rei-chan! How about Haru-chan and Rin-chan?”

Before Rin could consider his choices, Gou kicked him in the shin again and said, “They’re coming. Right?” She smiled sweetly at him.

He sent an imploring look to Haru, who seemed thoroughly uninterested in everything. As soon as the younger two started to fix their eyes on him, though, he shrugged. “If Rin doesn’t mind.”

“I—”

“He doesn’t!” Gou asserted, and Rin decided it would probably be easier if he just didn’t argue.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

His sister gave him an approving look. “But are you sure you can’t come with us, Makoto-senpai?”

The man in question smiled sadly. “Sorry, I have a paper due Monday and a project I really gotta work on. You guys go have fun though.”

“Don’t forget my exhibition tomorrow! 6 o’clock, in the west gallery.” Rei added. “I don’t mind if you just show up for a few minutes, but you don’t want to miss this one.”

“No worries, I’ll be there.”

Rei grinned. “Rin-san, you’re invited too.”

“I—” Rin blinked. “What is it? Your artwork?”

“Of course. It’s a showing of my portfolio thus far. In this one particularly, I focused on the extensions of the human form and function and how the characteristics—”

“Rei does conceptual art,” Haru said.

“—yes. Haruka-senpai is correct.”

Rin had no idea what that meant, but if it was anything like what Haru did, he wouldn’t be too opposed to seeing it. “Sure, I’ll go. Let me know where it is when it’s time?”

Haru nodded. “We can go after you lock up.”

“Cool.”

The waiter came and got their checks, and they all said goodbye to Makoto as he got up to leave.  Nagisa refused to tell them what movie he was taking them to see, claiming that the best events were always surprises (Rin called bullshit, but he insisted). This bothered Rei the most out of all of them, but the blond boy seemed to have complete immunity towards all of his complaining, so Rin just got amusement out of watching the two gesture at each other. Gou fell right in step beside Nagisa, and both of them teased the bespectacled boy with ease and practice.

Haru walked quietly next him. When he caught Rin staring, he gave him a slight smile. “They’re always like this,” he said. “Always teasing Rei.”

“Poor guy.”

“I don’t think Rei really minds that much. He likes Nagisa.”

Rin chuckled. “I would hope so, Makoto said they’re dating.”

“Mhm. But it’s hard not to like Nagisa, anyway.”

“He’s like…a teddy bear. Or a monkey.”

Looking back to the three in front of them, Rin could see Rei getting increasingly frustrated as Nagisa played dumb and Gou laughed at them both. Apparently not knowing what was in store in his future _really_ didn’t sit well with him.

“It’s called ‘The Trees on 4th Street’!”

“That doesn’t mean anything, and you know I don’t pay attention to the names of new releases!”

At one point, Rei looked pleadingly to Rin and Haru for help. When Haru just said that he didn’t care what they were watching, the other boy just groaned and threw his hands in the air. Nagisa giggled and pinched his cheeks, flashing Gou a victory sign to the side.

Rin decided it was probably going to be a long night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter started to get longer than planned, so I decided to split it in half. Next one should be up sooner!


	5. Chapter 5

“ _HORROR??!!_ ” Rei shrieked and jumped up as previews started to roll and they saw that all of them advertised grungy, blood spattered movies with monsters and serial killers and gore.

“ _Shhhh_ ,” Nagisa said in a hushed voice, pulling Rei down. “Get back in your seat, you’ll block the screen. In fact, you’re blocking _my_ view and I want to see the whole thing as clearly as possible when it starts so _sit down_.”

Rei sat down but did not calm down, as evidenced by the frantic waving of his limbs at the boy to his right. “You wanted to see a _horror film_? Why didn’t you warn me? I thought we’d agreed to no more scary movies!”

Nagisa didn’t look away from the screen. “Aw, we’re with everyone else now, though. It’s a group bonding exercise; would you say no to group bonding exercises?”

“I’m leaving! I’ll wait for you guys outside!”

Before Rei could get up, however, he was forced by back by Nagisa on his right and Gou on his left.

Gou had a gleam in her eyes when she smiled with her teeth and said, “You wouldn’t _disappoint Nagisa_ , would you?”

“That’s not a fair—”

“Rei-chan, you’re not allowed to leave.”

The man seemed to be on the verge of tears when he finally resigned himself to his fate and leaned back into his seat like a broken man.

When the movie started, the first scene was the brutal murder of a young couple by a monster shrouded in darkness (and, from two seats down, Rin heard Rei whimpering). The monster raised its head and there was a zoom in onto its rotting skin and terrifying face. A gross, raspy breathing filled the theater when it opened its mouth, sending shivers down Rin’s spine.

But he was definitely _not scared_. At all. He flinched at the loud noises but that was completely normal, right? He glanced around for validation, but Haru next to him didn’t seem to be affected by anything on the screen. In fact, he had the same expression he did when he looked out the window at a busy street.

Gou, on the other hand, was actually laughing, and Nagisa was whispering variations of “yes…die” under his breath. Rin wasn’t sure if the two of them or the screen was creepier.

The movie went on, filled with suspense and jump scares, and Rei excused himself at least five times for the bathroom before Nagisa called him out on it.

It wasn’t that scary. The movie was nearing its climax now, and Rin wasn’t freaking out. He wasn’t about to scream in terror and he definitely wasn’t planning on sleeping with the lights on that night.

Suddenly, he felt cold fingers on his hand and his heart sputtered to a horrified stop. He nearly let out an actual shriek before he realized they were Haru’s.

Rin turned to him with wide eyes and, fighting to keep his voice as level as possible, whispered, “Wh-what?”

Haru actually looked concerned when he said, “It’s just a movie.”

“I— I _know_ ,” Rin retorted incredulously.

The hand tightened slightly around his own. “You looked tense.”

Rin consciously willed his shoulders to go down when he realized with some embarrassment that he was sitting up straight with his back completely up against the seatback. “I’m not…scared.”

The other boy didn’t stop looking concerned, which just made Rin more flustered the longer they stared at each other in silence. He huffed and turned away to stare fixedly at the screen, which only made him tense up again. Haru turned back too, but his hand didn’t move.

That… _really_ wasn’t helping him relax.

The more Rin tried to desensitize himself to the horrors on the wide screen, the more his mind singled in on the other boy’s touch, and it was driving him crazy. Haru’s hand was still cold, but Rin’s skin burned beneath it. And as time went on, he became so acutely aware of it that he could think of nothing else; his mind just started to cycle through _wow his hand is really soft,_ and o _hgod ohgod ohgod that’s Haru’s hand, why is he touching me,_ and _why do I care, it’s just a fucking hand._

Strangely enough, the movie itself didn’t bother him so much after that…but that might have been because he found himself watching Haru more than the screen. It was stupid, because Haru’s expression didn’t change at all and he stared ahead like nothing had happened.

***

They didn’t actually get to see the end of the movie, because Rei ran out with twenty minutes left and refused to come back in. Nagisa had been so engrossed in the film that Rin thought he’d be a little upset about missing the end, at least, but the blond had simply taken Rei’s hand and cheerfully suggested that they go get snacks. It was already dark when they exited the theater, but there were still little food stands lighting up the street.

Rin and Haru walked behind the younger three as they ran around checking out their options. Or, more accurately, Nagisa ran around while Rei tagged along and Gou got distracted by the keychain spreads. They didn’t notice that Rin and Haru weren’t following their every move, or they pretended not to.

Haru didn’t look to be interested in any of it. He glanced at each food stand in passing, not stopping at any of them.

“You hungry?” Rin asked.

Haru looked over, surprised, as if he’d forgotten Rin was walking next to him. “A little.”

That was as good a confession Rin could get from him. He could hear the bustle of the rest of their group nearby. Gou’s high-pitched laugh was heard above Rei’s protests, and Rin thought for a moment they should catch up with them but then Haru said “mackerel” and disappeared down the street.

“Haru? Hey, wait up!” But he hadn’t gone far. _Does he have mackerel radar or something?_ Rin thought, as Haru strode up to a vendor selling roasted mackerel skewers.

“Want one?” Haru asked, holding a stick out for Rin. It looked revolting.

He didn’t have a chance to protest before Nagisa bounded toward them, followed by Rei and Gou. “Rin-chan likes mackerel too? It’s fate!”

“Huh?!” Rin sputtered as Haru pushed the stick into his hand, turning back to pay the vendor. “I don’t—!” He sighed, defeated, when the scent of the fish wafted up. It wasn’t his first choice for something to eat, but he was hungry and Haru had already paid for it. “I guess it’s all right.” Gou sidled up to him, nudging his arm, but he turned away and gnawed on his fish.

Rei was sputtering something about going back to study, and it looked like he and Nagisa had already been arguing over it. “But Rei-chaaan,” the boy whined, clinging to Rei’s arm.

“I must study!” Rei said, pulling away as he adjusted his glasses. “You know I have a very important quiz tomorrow and—” But he was cut off when Nagisa pressed a hand across his mouth.

Rin had to admit it was amusing to watch them. But he was more aware of Haru standing close beside him, slowly chewing his mackerel.

“If you’re going to leave, I’m coming with you!”

“No, I mustn’t be disturbed!”

“You’re no fun, Rei-chan!”

Rin had forgotten that Gou was even standing beside him, and he looked down when she nudged his arm again. She was grinning at him knowingly, as if they shared a secret he wasn’t aware of.

“Gou, what—”

She nudged him harder, a clear sign that he should shut up. She wasn’t subtle at all when she leaned to the side, eyeing Haru who was still standing next to him.

Ah. Haru.

He hadn’t said anything since they got their snacks. Even now he was consumed with eating his roasted mackerel and didn’t seem to notice the obvious way Gou was staring at him. Rin nudged her back.

And was Haru _blushing_? It was late, and the only lights around them were shining from the carts of the food stands, but Rin could definitely see a slight flush of Haru’s cheeks. _What’s that all about?_ he thought, shoving a hand into his pocket—the hand that Haru had touched during the movie. Rin tore off another piece of his own fish with his teeth.

As they walked around, Rei and Nagisa had gone back to bickering. Rin marveled that Rei was even still _there_ ; he’d been threatening to leave for the past fifteen minutes. He could swear that they were discussing who would walk his sister home and was about to interrupt— _Rin_ could easily bring her home—but he was constantly aware of Haru’s warmth beside him. And, besides, Nagisa had already looped his arm around Gou’s and insisted on walking her home.

“Rei-chan is too busy being a responsible student,” Nagisa said, “so we’re heading out!”

“We don’t _all_ have to leave!” Rei protested.

Gou stretched an arm over her head and yawned dramatically, which was the worst acting job Rin had ever seen. “We _should_ go back,” she agreed. “It’s getting really late.”

“It was very good to meet you, Rin-san,” Rei said as he bowed to him, which threw Rin off-guard.

“Uh, yeah,” he said, backing up slightly. “See you at the exhibition.” It seemed the right thing to say, because Rei beamed when he stood up straight again.

“Bye,” Haru said, giving them a small wave, and Rin was hyperaware of the fact he was _not_ leaving with his friends.

“Shouldn’t you be going back, too?” Rin asked.

Haru stared up at him blankly. He wasn’t _that_ much shorter, but Rin had to admit it was kind of cute how he had to look up at all.

 _Cute?!_ he thought, inwardly seething. _He is not—!_

“Do you want to walk around some more?” Haru asked, and Rin found himself agreeing immediately.

Rin was surprised that they’d both finished their mackerel—himself more so—and he steered them to a different vendor, one that didn’t serve fish. Haru seemed happy enough with shaved ice, so Rin bought them both a cup as they walked around.

“How’s the final project coming?”

Haru looked down at his shaved ice. “Fine.”

“Do I get to see it?”

“Mhm. When I’m done.”

All right, talking to this guy was hard. Rin _thought_ they were getting along fine, but Haru had closed off again and wasn’t giving him anything to work with. But Rin wanted to talk to him _so bad_. He occasionally glanced at Haru as they walked, circling town with no clear destination. In fact, they were going in the complete _opposite_ direction to where they lived. Haru didn’t look like he minded, so Rin didn’t mention it.

“So Haru, how long have you been drawing?”

Haru stopped walking. _Was that a stupid question?_ Rin thought, his heart pounding. He didn’t know _anything_ about art—what was he thinking, bringing that up?

Haru started walking again, but just as far as a nearby bench before he sat. “A while,” he answered, looking up at Rin. Even in the dark, Haru’s blue eyes shone. Rin wanted to believe it had something to do with the streetlights, but their muted glow couldn’t possibly… “I’ve been drawing and painting for as long as I can remember.”

Rin sat down beside him, but not too close.

“Can you draw?” Haru asked.

“Me?” Rin laughed, shaking his head. “No, I can’t draw a stick figure straight. So I…really admire people who can.”

“You’re talented with your flowers.”

Rin looked down at his shaved ice, which had mostly melted. He stirred the red slush with his spoon. “Thanks.”

“You said you’d bring me flowers.”

“Huh?!” Rin’s head shot up.

“When you pose for me again. It would look nice. Something white, or pink. It would match your eyes.”

Rin sputtered, nearly crushing the damp ice cup in his hand.

“Are you all right, Rin?”

“Y-yes, fine. All right, I’ll find something. Maybe some irises, or tulips, or—”

Haru interrupted. “Cherry blossoms.”

 _This guy is going to kill me_ , Rin thought, quickly drinking the melted ice from the cup. He couldn’t even answer.

But they talked for a while. Haru opened up a little, but he mostly asked questions so Rin did all the talking. But Rin learned a little bit about Haru, too, like the small town he grew up in and how he’d been living alone since high school.

“Doesn’t that get lonely?” Rin asked.

Haru shrugged. “Doesn’t bother me.”

Rin wasn’t ready to go when Haru stood from the bench, but they were both yawning and rubbing their eyes as they walked home. When they passed the street Rin would have to turn down to go home, he realized he was walking Haru to his studio. He didn’t mind. Haru had gone quiet again, but they _were_ tired, and the silence was… comfortable. _I could get used to this_ , he thought, sneaking glances at the boy as they walked.

“Want me to walk you up?” Rin asked, and Haru offered a half-nod as he unlocked the front door.

It was stupid walking him to his studio. But Rin liked following him upstairs and actually learning the best way to get to his place. Haru stopped outside his door, keys in hand, turning slightly to look at Rin.

“Thanks for inviting me out,” Rin said with a smile. “Your friends are pretty cool.”

“Yeah.”

Rin wondered if he would _ever_ be able to read Haru’s expression. His friends seemed to understand it okay, but to him, he was just standing there, staring at him blankly. But he was still _staring_ at him, like he expected him to say something more. It was nearly one thirty in the morning—Rin had to go home; he had to open the shop in the morning.

“Well, see ya,” Rin said, leaning in towards his lips to—

_No._

He pulled away the moment Haru’s eyes widened. Rin frantically looked around the empty hallway, trying to find some excuse as to why he’d _do that_ , but he only tripped over his feet as he backed away farther.

“Rin…”

“Well, goodnight, Haru! See you tomorrow!” Rin choked out a nervous laugh as he sped down the hallway, waving over his shoulder. Haru was still _standing there_ when Rin pressed the button to call the elevator over and over, willing it to come faster. And he was still there when Rin stumbled into the elevator car and covered his face with his hands.

_Stupid stupid stupid._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **eyy plz read this it's important**
> 
>  
> 
> Wow...it's been a long time. /hides
> 
> You've probably noticed, but this fic has a co-author now! Ellerean (you may also know her as [trapsandpecs](http://trapsandpecs.tumblr.com) on tumblr) and I wrote this chapter together, but after this, she's agreed to adopt the fic (because she's a wonderful human being and I feel awful leaving fics unfinished). Cookies if anyone can pick out exactly where the author shift happened.
> 
> Anyway, this is basically goodbye from me! I really appreciated all the support and the nice things everyone's given me. I will treasure them always. But I've gotten increasingly preoccupied with school and making prints and working on other various art projects, so writing fic just wasn't going to happen. On that note, I've still been procrastinating on a Free! print so if anyone has any ideas on what to do for that, you're welcome to drop me a message on [tumblr](http://fim-damaskino.tumblr.com).


	6. Chapter 6

Rin had long since needed an assistant at the shop, and of _course_ the boy’s first day was the day of Rei’s exhibition. In all the commotion over his now-whirlwind life (Yes, Haru was to blame, he could at least admit to that), he’d forgotten that Nitori would be arriving early that morning.

And the day was packed, with endless orders and customers coming through, which meant Rin had little time to teach him anything besides how to hand bouquets over the counter. Nitori was a little overexcitable, perhaps to a fault, but knowledgeable and eager to learn more. He kept on calling Rin his “mentor,” which was a little weird, but he’d let it slide. Rin watched him from the corner of his eye as he took phone orders, hoping his chicken-scratch on his notepad would be decipherable later.

Haru was supposed to come by to pick him up for the exhibition, but Rin wouldn’t be ready in time. He grumbled as he sent Haru a quick text, saying he’ll meet him there, and requesting the address. Haru replied with a simple “ok” and the location—his short answer killed Rin a little inside—but he couldn’t just leave the mess of petals and broken stems behind the counter for morning.

“Phew!” Nitori said, once the last customer was out the door. He wasn’t even scheduled to work the full day, but he’d remained until closing. “I didn’t know it would be this busy, mentor!”

“It’s usually not,” Rin admitted, grabbing a push broom from the storage closet. _It’s usually quiet,_ he thought, _with a cute guy hanging around to doodle pictures of me_. “Next time I’ll actually show you how to take an order, eh?”

Rin had already missed the exhibition's opening, but he rushed over anyway. _How long do these things last, anyway?_ he thought. He had no idea as he approached the building, slightly out of breath, following the signs to the exhibition hall.

He was surprised to find it _packed_. Rin quickly scanned the room for Haru, hoping he’d just jump out at him, but there were pedestals with weird sculptures blocking his view of the entire space. He glanced at a painting near the entrance— _what the hell_ is _that?_ —and as he turned, spotted Makoto’s head of olive-green hair above the crowd.

He started to move toward him, figuring Haru wouldn't be too far, but stopped. He _did_ spot Haru, right beside to Makoto, staring at a painting like he understood what it meant. And Makoto stood close by—too close—leaning down to talk to him as Haru nodded.

As if sensing his presence, Makoto suddenly turned and lit up. He raised an arm to wave at him, like Rin hadn’t already noticed them. Haru looked over briefly, but quickly turned back to the painting as he approached.

“Hi, Rin!” Makoto said. “Rei will be so glad you could make it.”

“Yeah . . .” He looked around. “Where _is_ he?”

“Probably talking someone’s ear off,” he said with a laugh.

Haru started to move to the next painting. Makoto glanced at Rin, shrugged, and they silently followed. Rin shoved his hands in his pockets as they stared at another piece of artwork he didn’t understand—it only looked like a piece of plaid in a horrendous color combination. He watched Haru from the corner of his eye, trying to figure out if he understood it. And how long were you supposed to stare at art, anyway? He turned back to the plaid monstrosity, deciding that he much preferred Haru’s flowers and, he had to admit, the sketches of himself.

“Rin-san!” Rei materialized beside him, bowing quickly in greeting. “I’m honored that you could come. And I see you’re admiring my finest work!"

"Uh, yeah," Rin said, squinting at the canvas. "It's very . . . colorful."

"Of course!" Rei adjusted his glasses. "Allow me to paraphrase Kandinsky when I explain that color evokes emotions and psychological responses, even when used non-representationally. As you can see with the use of . . .”

He kept going. Rin slowly blinked at him. All this talk of emotion and representation or whatever was making his head hurt, and as he rubbed his temple could swear Makoto was chuckling.

“Rei,” Makoto interrupted, taking him by the elbow, “I was hoping you could explain your inspiration for The Defiance of Beauty to me.”

“Another beautiful piece!” He guided Makoto to a sculpture in the center of the floor, already going on about abstraction and post-modernism and Rin was glad when they were out of earshot.

He looked at Haru. “He’s, uh, really talented,” he said, even though Haru wasn’t looking at him.

“Mmm.”

Haru continued to circle the room, and Rin followed obediently.

“You’ve already checked everything out, haven’t you?” Rin asked, falling into step beside him. “Sorry I couldn’t get here on time.”

“It’s okay.”

Rin let out a long, frustrated sigh. _Obviously_ Haru had already seen it all, but he was still spending a really long time staring at artwork and not looking at him. Rin peered back at Makoto and Rei—they didn’t stand close at all; they were on opposite sides of a sculpture, Makoto nodding like he understood, and he instantly thought back to when he first spotted him with Haru, standing so close like it was something they did all the time.

“Rin?” Haru snapped him out of his reverie. “Are you coming?”

He hadn’t noticed that Haru kept on walking until he’d circled back, extending a hand to touch his arm but immediately drawing it back.

 _This is so awkward_ , Rin thought, advancing to the next mess of color on canvas. The previous night’s exchange had slipped his mind in the bustle of the flower shop, but now he was beating himself up again. He’d had a restless sleep, and he was tired, and he couldn’t believe that he’d _almost kissed Haru_ and how _stupid_ could he be?

His heart dropped when Makoto approached again. “I have to head out,” he said, placing a hand on Haru’s shoulder. “Sorry we couldn’t hang out more, Rin.”

“T-that’s okay,” he said, staring at his hand.

He was convinced Makoto would kiss Haru or something, with the way he so comfortably patted him on the back before leaving, but he only waved as he head for the exit.

“Why are you staring at him?”

Rin whipped around. He looked at Haru’s shoulder, imagining the imprint of Makoto’s hand. It was so obvious now—they’d been friends so long, and they practically lived together, and Haru had been walking so close to him . . .

“What’s with you guys?” he blurted.

Haru’s eyes widened slightly. “What do you mean?”

“Well, he’s . . .” He gestured vaguely to Haru. “With the touching and the coddling or whatever he does.”

“He doesn’t _coddle_ me.”

“Whatever!”

Haru frowned and looked away, not even at the painting in front of them but at some far-off point across the room. “Rin . . .” He sighed, rolling his eyes. “Makoto’s straight.”

“O-oh.” He could feel the color creep into his cheeks. “Well, yeah. Obviously.”

He winced. _Obviously? What the hell does that mean?_

They continued to walk, not really looking at anything, never mind each other. Rin cleared his throat. “So, uh, does that mean you’re . . .”

Haru stopped. “What?”

“. . . not?”

“Not . . . ? Oh.” Haru looked so _cute_ when he pouted, with his downturned mouth and the way he avoided his eyes, trying so hard not to look into them. “Yeah, sure.”

They were standing in front of the sculpture—the Defiance of Beauty—and Rin couldn’t figure it out, convinced that the thing was displayed upside-down. (Was that the point?) Sweat dripped down the back of his neck as he became conscious of how close Haru now stood, and he had no idea what “yeah, sure” even _meant_.

He shivered when something brushed his wrist, and froze when he realized it was Haru. Rin blindly stared at the Defiance of Beauty as Haru's fingers crept down his palm, then eased between the gaps of his fingers. Rin didn’t mean to grasp his hand so quickly, or so harshly, but Haru didn’t seem to mind. At least, he didn’t try to break away.

"Do you even  _get_ this?" Rin said, jerking his chin toward the sculpture, and Haru coughed to hide a laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhh, is it obvious that ellerean was the sole writer for this chapter because she's _ridiculously long-winded_?
> 
> Also, hi friends! I guess I'll be taking over from here. Kudos to Fim for creating _the cutest story ever_ and I'm so pleased/honored to be taking it over. I hope I can do this story the justice it deserves. Thanks for being so welcoming ♥


	7. Chapter 7

Rin didn’t understand art, really. But Haru explained. He’d never heard Haru talk so much at once—pointing out small details in the texture of the paint, the way the colors worked with each other to imply forms and emotions. Even the sculptures, which were once nothing more than blobs of hardened clay, began to take form: A naked torso, a hidden smile. Rin could swear one looked like Nagisa.

“It _is_ Nagisa,” Haru said, squeezing his hand, like he was proud of him.

The gallery was clearing out. Rei and Nagisa stood at the entrance, the artist himself bowing to everyone as they left the hall. Haru dropped Rin’s hand as they moved for the exit, even though Rin was certain his friends had noticed the gesture in the hour they’d been attached to each other.

If they had, though, they made no indication. “Thank you for attending!” Rei said, bowing again.

“Yeah,” Rin said, as Haru smiled. “I’m glad I could make it. You’re really talented, Rei.”

Nagisa beamed, as if he were the one being complimented. “I saw Haru-chan explaining things to you! It helps to know the meaning behind everything.”

Rin laughed nervously. “Well, I’m not an artist, so I need a little help.”

“Nonsense!” Rei squared his shoulders. “Floristry is a divine art! To understand the ratio of blossoms to leaves, the balance of color and proportion, of harmony—”

Nagisa sighed. _“Rei-chan.”_

“No, he’s . . . right.” Rin glanced at Haru, though he was staring back into the exhibition hall. “I guess we’re not that different.”

Nagisa waved frantically when they finally left, and Rin couldn’t help but smile as he waved back. His enthusiasm was infectious, he had to admit. Haru stared up at the clear, star-studded sky as they walked.

Rin cleared his throat. “C-can I . . . walk you home again?”

A small smile crept to his lips. “Okay.”

Rin couldn’t stop thinking of all the art he’d seen. It had appeared to be nonsense when he’d first arrived, but it _was_ beautiful. Rei may be weird and a little overexcited, but Rin couldn’t deny his eye for beauty. He glanced at Haru, whose face was as indifferent as ever, but it shone in a new light. The angle of his jaw, his long neck, his slightly downturned lips . . .

“Rin? We’re here.”

He’d nearly walked past Haru’s building. He looked up at the structure, wondering which window was his. He then jogged to the front, where Haru was already unlocking the door.

They didn’t look at each other in the elevator. But they stood close; Rin could feel Haru’s body heat through his clothes. He didn’t need Haru to lead, either, when they head for his door, having already memorized the way.

“Thanks for coming,” Haru said, as they stood before his room.

“Yeah, it was cool,” Rin replied. “Sorry I was late.”

Haru merely shrugged. He stared at his doorknob, jingled the keys in his hand, then quickly kissed Rin’s cheek.

Rin blinked, dumbfounded. Haru looked away again, clearing his throat. “You could actually kiss me this time.”

"Urk!" Rin jolted and choked on his words.

Haru covered his mouth with a fist, as if he were coughing, but Rin could _swear_ he heard a laugh. Rin scanned the empty hallway. “Could we . . . uh . . . can I come in?”

He thought his chest would explode as Haru unlocked the door. He used the doorframe for support as they went inside, and suddenly the air was too warm, his limbs tingling as the door clicked shut. And then his arms were around Haru’s waist—he was _toned_ , Rin was surprised to notice—and Haru’s keys fell to the floor as he held Rin’s shoulders, and they briefly glanced at the other’s eyes before their lips met.

His arms tightened around Haru, not from some ingrained desire, but because he lost control of his body. He leaned into him, and they were _kissing_ , Haru’s soft lips against his. Rin pulled back, staring at Haru’s mouth, wanting to kiss him again, but the decision wasn’t his to make—Haru leaned in again, holding on tighter, stumbling against him until Rin's back was pressed to the wall.

Haru felt so _good_. They were only kissing—there wasn’t even any _tongue_ —but he loved the way Haru’s mouth moved, the way their bodies fit together. Haru cupped his cheeks and Rin sucked in a breath, Haru laughing softly as he pulled away and looked down.

“Look at me, Haru,” he whispered.

His eyes betrayed the smile that didn’t appear on his lips, shining as they met. They were like water, clear and blue, deeper than Rin had imagined.

“Will you pose for me?” Haru asked.

_“Now?!” Of all the times . . ._

He nodded.

“. . . Okay.”

Rin reached to flip the light switch, but Haru gently took his wrist. He raised his eyebrows as Haru guided him to the center of the room in semi-darkness, leading him to the familiar chair.

“No . . . wait.” Haru quickly scanned the room, then dragged the chair toward the window. There wasn’t much light, but the moon cast a single beam across the floor. Rin could only watch as he positioned the chair, tilting the angle slightly, shaking his head and tilting it again. “There.” Rin sat as Haru strode across the room for his sketchbook.

 “How should I sit?” Rin asked, as Haru flipped to a clean sheet of paper. He looked up, staring at him for a long time. Rin started to sweat as Haru approached again, nudged the chair back, and tilted his chin up.

“Can you hold that?”

“Sure. Should I smile?”

“. . . If you can hold it.”

Haru had positioned him to look out the window, so he couldn’t even watch as he drew. But he listened to the scritch of pencil on paper, the occasional “hmm.” He caught Haru’s shadow from the corner of his eye as he walked around him, probably studying the light or an angle or something. Rin had learned _something_ during the exhibition.

Haru was standing behind him now, too close, but Rin couldn’t turn. He closed his eyes briefly, listening to the pencil scratch and then Haru’s footsteps as he walked back to his own chair.

“Rin,” he said, and Rin inclined his head in reply. “Could you take off your shirt?”

He froze. They’d shared one kiss, and already the guy wanted him naked?

“We’ve been studying life models,” he added, “so it would be good to have some in my portfolio. If you want.”

Rin nodded. “Sure, okay.” He winced when his voice squeaked, and his fingers shook as he unbuttoned his polo. It wasn’t _that_ weird, sitting shirtless in Haru’s studio—they _were_ both guys—and Rin made an effort to go to the gym, so it wasn’t like he was pudgy or anything.

 _“Oh.”_ Haru’s pencil clattered to the floor.

“Huh? What?”

He scrabbled for his pencil. “Nothing.”

“How should I sit?”

“Doesn’t matter. Be comfortable.”

Rin slung his arm over the back of the chair, tilting his head up again as he focused on the moon. “So does that mean you have naked models in class?”

“Stop talking.” Haru flipped to a new sheet of paper.

Rin leaned back, the wooden chair cold against his skin.

“Sometimes they wear underwear,” Haru said.

Rin couldn’t help but chuckle.

It was nice. Rin watched him draw, and Haru had stopped complaining when he moved his head. He had a box of supplies at his feet, and he occasionally switched mediums. When Haru met his eyes, Rin didn’t look away. He liked seeing the flicker of content in his expression, like Haru was just happy to see him there.

 _I’ve got it bad for this guy,_ he thought with a smile, as Haru leaned over the sketchbook again.

“It’s getting late,” Haru said.

Rin checked the time on his phone. _Whoa._ It seemed impossible that he’d been sitting for three hours, that Haru had spent all that time studying _him_.

“Haru,” he said, and he peered up from his supply case. Rin had spoken before he could think—he sat half-naked in his studio after midnight, his heart pounding every time Haru moved. It was otherworldly, it was all impossible. “Do I get to study you, too?”

“Hmm?”

“Well . . .” Rin looked down at his exposed chest. “You know enough of me.”

Haru snapped his case closed, staring at its faux-leather binding before he nodded.

 _He nodded_. Rin broke into a cold sweat.

“That’s fair.” In one swift movement, Haru pulled his shirt off over his head.

Rin could hardly believe he still had the ability to speak. “In the light, please.”

He backed out of the moonlight as Haru stepped into it, reclining on the chair that Rin had come to know as his. He was an awkward model, despite all his fussing over Rin’s position. But the waning light brought out the angles of his face, the curve of his collarbone, the plane of his stomach. He was surprisingly fit for an artist, but he _did_ live off little else but seafood. Rin knew that much, at least.

“Rin?”

His gaze was fixed on that body. His toned arms, slight wrists, long fingers.

“Rin.”

Haru stood then, and Rin finally looked up. Haru’s fingers brushed his cheeks before their lips met, melting into a slow kiss.

It was as perfect as the first. A chill went through Rin’s body as he held Haru’s hips, his bare skin cool under his palms.

He wanted to stay. It was late. He waited for Haru to offer he crash on the floor, or— _gulp_ —in his bed. Rin would even sleep in the bathtub if it meant he could stay this close to Haru and that this night would never end.

“I should go home,” he whispered.

Haru was still touching Rin’s face. He rubbed his cheeks with his thumbs, stared at his lips, and then nodded.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, friends! I plan on participating in Camp NaNoWriMo in April, so I'm posting as much of this as I can before then. Not that doing NaNo has ever prevented me from actually writing fanfic. But, you know, just in case.

They fell into a routine. From the outside, nothing had changed—Rin worked, teaching Nitori the ropes, and Haru sat in the flower shop every day with his sketchbook.

“Mentor,” Nitori whispered, as they stood behind the counter, “that guy comes in here a lot.”

“Don’t worry about him,” Rin replied, watching the rapid movement of Haru’s pencil.

Gou stopped by more often, too, and Rin was starting to resent her knowing smirk. He hadn’t told her anything yet—like he wanted to tell his _sister_ he’d fallen for a guy—but she knew, anyway, probably from Nagisa.

“Have any good flowers in?” she asked, leaning over the counter.

“Go away, Gou.”

She huffed. “It’s Kou!”

“I’ll show you!” Nitori said, ignoring their banter. “What are you looking for?”

“Oh,” she said, twirling the end of her ponytail, “something for a special someone.”

Rin grit his teeth, but couldn’t stay angry for long when Haru smiled at his sketchbook.

_Damn that smile_.

And he never stopped thinking of _that night_. Rin regretted not staying only because it meant less time with Haru. But seeing him during the day was good— _great_ , even—silently sitting in his shop when he wasn’t busy with schoolwork. Rin hadn’t seen the drawings from that night yet, but he didn’t ask. Somehow, he knew that Haru was still working on them—perfecting them.

Rin opened the shop alone one morning. It was quiet without his protégé, and even lonelier without Haru. He’d just finished restocking the cooler with fresh flowers and discarding the ones unsuitable for sale. He glared at the pile on the floor. _They’re not even that old_ , he thought, twirling a white rose between his fingers.

But then he grinned. He plopped down among the discarded blooms, tossing the wilted ones in the trash bin. He worked with vigor, examining each flower and gathering up those that still had life. His task was interrupted only when customers came in, but resumed his rummaging as soon as they walked out the door.

During lunchtime, the bell over the door jingled and Gou strode in. Rin had just cleaned up the last of his mess and was standing at the counter, arranging the bouquet.

“It’s so pretty!” she gushed, and Rin grinned in agreement. He tied a blue ribbon around the base before wrapping it in white paper. Gou leaned over the counter to breathe in their fragrance. “Aren’t these out of bloom, though?”

“It’s fine!” he snapped, cradling the bouquet to his chest. The white roses and pink peonies were perfect, even if nearly off-season. “Why are you here, anyway?”

“I can’t say hi to my big brother?”

Rin turned to the cooler to grab another sprig of baby’s breath. Gou skipped around the counter, then propped her chin on his shoulder as he fussed over the flowers. “Who are those for?” she asked playfully.

He refused to answer.

“Riiiin?” She poked his arm. “Are they for Haruka-senpai?”

He didn’t have to say anything to confirm—his cheeks were bright scarlet. Gou couldn’t hold back a squeal of glee. “Are you _dating?_ ”

“We’re not _dating!_ ”

_Dating?_ Was a kiss in the dark considered dating? Or a couple kisses . . . or at least four before Rin managed to pull away and go home . . .

Rin fiddled with the flowers, fluffing the peonies and breaking off a wayward strand of baby’s breath. But then he sighed, setting the bouquet on the counter. “This is really gay.”

“Brother, you own a _flower shop_.” She stood on her toes to kiss his cheek. “He’ll love them.”

Gou began to ramble about some debate Nagisa had with their psych professor, but Rin merely nodded without paying much attention. It was lunchtime, and his stomach was growling, and _he_ was debating whether to text Haru. When was his lunch break? Did he even notice when it was time to eat? Rin pictured him in his studio, painting away, maybe a shirtless picture of himself on the canvas . . .

“ _Rin!_ ”

He jerked from his reverie with a start. “ _What?_ ”

“You haven’t been listening.”

He scowled. “Yes I have.”

Gou tossed her hair over her shoulder and turned to the flower display. “I’m taking these.”

“Wha—!” She nabbed a small bunch of white-and-purple irises. “You can’t just _take_ things! What do you need it for, anyway?”

“My _dorm_.”

He narrowed his eyes at the obvious lie—she didn’t look at him when she spoke, which was a dead giveaway—but the bell over the door jingled before he could object.

“Ah!” Gou bounced on her toes. “Hello, Haruka-senpai!”

Rin whipped around.

He thought he’d grown used to Haru’s presence by now, but just the sight of him made him weak-kneed—the light blue windbreaker that perfectly fit his body; the schoolbag slung across his chest; the dark hair sweeping over those striking blue eyes. He wasn’t holding a sketchbook, which seemed weird, but instead held a white plastic takeout bag.

“Hey,” Haru said, and even his _voice_ made him dizzy.

Rin glanced at the bouquet sitting on the counter, then back up at Haru. “Where’s your sketchbook?” Rin asked. _Of all the stupid . . . that’s the first thing—?_

“I didn’t bring it.”

_Duh_. Rin raked a hand through his hair.

Haru held up the bag, which had a distinct fishy aroma. “Have you eaten?”

Gou was already pushing Rin out from behind the counter. “I’ll cover!”

_This was planned_ , he thought, narrowing his eyes at Gou as he lead Haru to the back room. His sister grabbed the bouquet, and he was vaguely aware of the sound of the cooler opening. But any internal seething toward her vanished when the office door closed, leaving them blissfully alone. Haru set the food on the desk and, before unpacking anything, his lips brushing Rin’s cheek.

Rin’s cheek was on fire, like it had been branded by that gentle touch. It was suddenly way too hot in the back room. “What’dya get?” he asked, pulling over a folding chair for himself.

“Mackerel,” Haru replied, and Rin tried his hardest not to sigh. “And beef for you.”

“Yeah? Really?”

Haru chuckled lightly as Rin peered into the bag. It was a beautiful sound, that laugh he could barely hear, but when Rin looked up Haru’s face had reverted to its usual indifference. But his cheeks were flushed (maybe it _was_ warm in the back room?), and his gaze flitted to Rin before he turned back to the takeout containers. “Here.” He set Rin’s in front of him.

Haru claimed the desk chair—the only other seat available—and despite the vast amount of desk space they sat side by side, shoulders and knees nearly touching, as they ate. Rin blatantly watched Haru poke through his container with his chopsticks. Haru scowled. “ _What?_ ”

“I . . . thanks. For lunch.” He leaned over to kiss Haru’s cheek but Haru turned his head at the last moment, catching Rin’s lips before he knew what was happening.

Rin gripped the back of Haru’s chair, unprepared and suddenly lightheaded. He let out a contented sigh as their lips moved; he could feel Haru’s smile as his hands rested on Rin’s thighs.

Rin marveled over how _new_ it felt, even though they’d kissed before—several times before, in succession—but he still loved being so close to Haru. His skin smelled slightly fishy, which was no surprise, but underneath was a mixture of wood and paint and, somehow, _water_. Did water have a scent? If it did, it would smell like Haru.

Rin’s stomach audibly growled and Haru pulled away, covering his mouth as he snickered.

“Stupid stomach,” Rin muttered.

He kept an ear out for any commotion in the shop, since lunch time was usually swamped, but Gou wasn’t raising her voice in the steady stream of customers (as she was inclined to do for no good reason at all), so he allowed himself this time to eat.

Haru was quiet, sure, but Rin enjoyed it. He simply reveled in his company, of having him so close that their arms bumped as they ate. Rin apologized at first, but it grew more and more common that he didn’t bother. And he could swear Haru was bumping him on purpose, though he didn’t complain.

“Hey, Haru,” he said. “What do you do in your free time?”

The modeling and the kissing was well and good, but Rin still didn’t _know_ him. He didn’t know what made him tick or what he enjoyed, besides eating fish and drawing. But Haru, too, seemed to have a hard time with the question.

“I don’t have a lot of free time,” he eventually replied. “School keeps me busy.”

“Well, what will you do over summer break?”

“Draw.”

Rin huffed, exasperated.

“And”—Haru fidgeted with his chopsticks—“I like to swim.”

“Cool.” The image of Haru in a swimsuit flooded his mind, and he had to look away. He stared at the bulletin board over the desk as he said, “we’ll go to the beach.”

_Haru in a swimsuit . . ._ He risked a glance at his thighs. _In a form-fitting—_

“I like the pool more.”

“Whatever!”

“What about you?” he asked.

Rin froze. What _did_ he do in his free time? He didn’t have much time outside the shop, and though he hadn’t known Haru for _that_ long he couldn’t think of what had consumed his days before him. What did he do before Haru wiggled his way into his life, before he’d found himself with a new group of friends?

“I like working out,” he said, leaning back in his folding chair. “I run in the morning before I open up.”

Haru swallowed a mouthful of food. “I’ll go with you sometime.”

Before he had a chance to happily agree, there was a crash from the storefront. Rin stumbled as he leaped from the folding chair, but tripped over its leg and fell directly into Haru’s lap. The desk chair spun back into the wall as Rin hit the floor, Haru emitted a soft _“Oww,”_ and when Rin managed to stand up he stopped dead in his tracks. Did he check to make sure Gou wasn’t buried in a mound of flowers? Make sure Haru wasn’t hurt?

Haru answered for him—he stood, rubbing the back of his head, and flung the door open.

“Brother!”

No mound of flowers, thankfully, but Gou stood before a toppled metal display, a flurry of greeting cards spilled over the floor. And, to his surprise, Makoto, crouched at her feet trying to clean up the disaster.

“Ah, Rin!” he cried, standing up with an armload of cards. He dropped them to the countertop as Haru emerged from the office, thankfully no longer massaging his injury. “And Haru! Hi!”

Rin stood dumbfounded. “Wh-what happened?”

“I didn’t even see it there,” Makoto said, as he and Gou uprighted the now-empty display. “I’m so sorry!”

“They’re just cards,” Rin said, as Haru pushed past him to help clean up. “Don’t worry about it.” He winced at the haphazard pile on the counter, though, mourning the time he’d have to spend reorganizing them.

“I’ll fix it!” Gou cried, spreading the cards over the counter.

“I said don’t worry about it.” Rin finally advanced, carefully taking a stack of cards from Makoto’s hands. “Don’t you have to get back to school?”

“He’s right,” Makoto said apologetically. He turned to Rin. “I was just coming to pick her up for class.”

_Do they even_ have _any classes together?_ Rin shook his head. “Yeah, go. I’ll take care of it.” He looked at Haru. “You’ve gotta go too, right?”

“Yeah. Figure drawing.”

Rin tried to block out the thought of him staring at a naked model all afternoon. “Get out of here, then! You’re all going to be late.”

Gou and Makoto shuffled out, still spouting apologies, but Haru moved slower as he retrieved his schoolbag from the back room. Rin let out a frustrated sigh as he shifted the metal display back into its customary location. _Maybe I should move it . . ._

“Sorry I can’t stay.” Haru closed the office door behind him, chewing what was presumed to be the remains of his lunch.

“It _is_ boring here without you,” Rin said with a smirk, watching the blush creep across Haru’s cheeks.

The shop door opened and an elderly woman strode in, making a beeline for the hanging baskets. Rin glanced at the card-strewn counter.

“I’ll come back after school,” Haru said. “Help with _that_ if it’s not done.”

“Haru, you don’t have to—”

“I want to.” He checked over his shoulder, making sure the customer was still distracted by the flowers, before quickly kissing his cheek. “See you later.”

Rin could only gawk as Haru left. His footsteps faded, the jingle over the bell a distant sound; everything went silent as Haru passed by the windows, glancing into the shop, until he was no longer in sight.

“Excuse me?”

And the lunch, and the way they kissed in the back room, and the fact that _Haru_ had been the last to sit in his office chair . . .

“Young man?”

Rin whipped around. The woman stood directly in front of him, bewildered, holding up a hanging basket. “Yes! Will that be it?”

Part of him wanted to clean up the mess of greeting cards, but he found other things to keep himself occupied through the afternoon. Besides the influx of customers there was restocking the ready-made bouquets; sneaking into the back room to finish and clean up lunch; mopping the floor. He knew how stupid he was being, but just _thinking_ of being with Haru in the shop after closing, cleaning up those stupid cards, was enough to send his heart aflutter.

Haru reappeared as he was flipping the “open” sign to “closed” on the front door.

“You didn’t do anything,” Haru said, dropping his schoolbag as he stared at the card pile.

“It got busy,” Rin said with a shrug. He drew the window shades, turned off the outside lights, and only when they were in semi-darkness did he permit himself to kiss Haru again.

_Damn those cards_. It would have been _perfect_ to have a clean counter at that moment, now that Haru was leaned back against it and holding his hips. Rin would have _loved_ to hoist him onto the counter, stand between his legs as they made out, but instead he pulled away and jerked his chin toward the mess of greeting cards.

He quickly pecked Haru’s lips. “Let’s get stared.”

“We’ll never finish if you keep on kissing me.”

“Like you’re complaining!”

The task wasn’t that hard. They made stacks of each type, most of which had flowers on the front because Rin couldn’t think of anything else to stock. Occasionally, Haru would snicker as he organized. “Stop making fun of my greeting cards!” Rin whined.

“These are really bad.” Haru picked one up with daisies on the front. He cleared his throat as he opened the card. “‘Thinking of you during this difficult time.’ Touching.” He dropped it back onto the pile. “And it’s ugly.”

“Give me a break!”

“Where did you get these, anyway?”

Rin crouched behind the counter, rummaging through a pile of old papers and catalogues. “Where is that thing . . . ah ha!” He pulled out a thick catalogue. “I buy ’em wholesale.”

Haru grabbed the book. “I can tell.” Rin grumbled as he carried a stack of cards around the counter. But he didn’t complain as he restocked the display, listening to the faint flip of pages as Haru studied the catalogue. “You could do worse. You could’ve picked _that_.” Rin peeked over his shoulder as he pointed to a card: a hideous render of a grandparent (he couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman) with a small child on its lap. Rin snorted. “See, I have _some_ taste in art.”

Haru went quiet. He closed the book, staring at its cover before turning to the card display.

“What?” Rin asked.

“Hmm? Nothing.” He slid some cards into the rack.

“Oh, Haru.” Rin rushed back behind the counter. He paused before the flower cooler, hands suddenly shaking as he stared through its glass doors.

_What am I doing what am I doing._

He swallowed hard, then opened it up to retrieve the white-and-pink bouquet.

“Rin?”

“I . . . uh . . .” Rin turned, catching the curious expression in Haru’s eyes. “Here.” He thrust the bouquet into Haru’s arms. “For you.”

“For . . . me?” He examined them closely, like he’d never seen a damn flower before.

“It’s stupid.” Rin grabbed some greeting cards at random, shuffling and straightening the perfectly-straight stack. “I— I was bored this morning, and—”

“Thank you.” There was a slight catch in Haru’s voice, which took all Rin’s composure not to point out. Haru carefully set the bouquet on the counter, still staring at it, with that small smile that occasionally crept to his face. And he smiled still when he lifted his eyes to Rin. “Let’s finish this and get out of here.”

It was the motivation he needed. Haru placed the last of the cards into the display as Rin shucked off his apron, tossing it into a ball behind the counter. "Hey, Haru . . ." He furrowed his brows, double-checking the counter area and the cooler in one final sweep. "Do you see any irises over there?"

Haru blinked, unamused. "You lost _flowers_?"

"No, I . . ." He crossed his arms. "Gou was going to take them. They're white, with purple around the edges . . ."

"Oh." Haru slung his schoolbag over his shoulder. "Makoto had them when they left."

_Makoto?_ He shook his head. "Huh. Well, come on." He swept around the counter, linking an arm through Haru's. "I'm starving."

 


	9. Chapter 9

When Rin had made the bouquet for Haru, he expected it would be displayed on a table in his studio. Or maybe there would be some sketches of it hanging around, Haru’s subtle way of memorializing the first gift Rin had given him.

What he _hadn’t_ expected was to sit shirtless in the armchair again, with Haru fussing about him as he decorated his hair with the flowers.

“This looks ridiculous,” Rin said, catching his reflection in the window.

“I’m not _done_.” Haru plucked a white rose from behind his ear.

Half the bouquet was sitting in a glass vase on the windowsill, but half of it was on Rin. Haru had taken a liking to the pink peonies, claiming they matched Rin’s pinkish skin tone, and then scolded Rin for blushing because it messed up his color palette, or whatever.

But Rin relaxed in the armchair when Haru returned to his easel, studying Rin for a brief moment before he began to paint.

. . . And Haru looked _adorable_ painting.

He wore a smock, which bore the occasional splatter of his craft. He constantly brushed his fringe from his forehead with the back of his hand, careful not to get paint on his face. Rin was fascinated by how easily he mixed colors—he could see little of Haru’s paints, being behind the easel, but he’d pause when he looked back at Rin, smiling slightly before returning to his canvas.

The modeling session hadn’t necessarily been planned—Haru had come by the shop to take him out for lunch, and Rin . . . never returned. He’d left Nitori there alone, and though he was an enthusiastic protégé Rin still worried whether the shop would still be standing when he returned. But Nitori had his phone number—the kid would call him for any little thing—and his phone hadn’t buzzed yet. So he watched Haru, mostly hidden behind his easel, occasionally popping his head around it to look at him.

“You moved,” Haru said, squinting.

“I had an itch.”

Haru strode over to readjust the rose perched over his ear. His face was so close, and so irresistible, that Rin couldn’t help but peck the corner of his mouth.

“Stop moving!”

Rin tried, and failed, to hold back a smirk.

It felt like forever that Haru sat there painting, but when Rin glanced at the wall clock it had only been thirty minutes. He was happy, though—as long as Haru didn’t have him in some weird position, he didn’t mind the modeling. It meant that Haru would look at him, even if analytically, and sometimes come over to adjust something, and having him so near and smelling his now-familiar scent was enough for Rin to want to stay there, in that position, for days.

But he had to get back to the shop to close up that night. And when Haru sat back on his stool and set down his paintbrush, Rin automatically knew that the day’s session was coming to a close.

“Can I see it?” Rin asked.

Haru nodded. “It’s not finished, though.”

He strode over, flowers and all, to stand behind Haru, gazing upon the half-finished painting. It was strange to see himself on the canvas, knowing _this_ was how Haru saw him. That his trim body and the sheen of his eyes was what _Haru_ saw, that these little details he didn’t pay much attention to himself were what Haru noticed most. Rin tucked a rose over Haru’s ear and kissed the top of his head.

“If you ever get tired of floristry,” Haru said, “you could model.”

Rin hugged him, nuzzling the back of his neck. “You little charmer.”

The impromptu session ended like no typical modeling session, with both artist and model squeezed onto the armchair as they kissed. Haru still wore his smock which, when pressed against Rin’s bare chest, left traces of pink and yellow hues. The longer Haru straddled his lap, and the longer they kissed, Rin wondered if it was _really_ necessary to return to the shop. Especially when his hands slid down Haru's back to his belt, and when Haru didn’t stop him when he slid them farther down.

Haru may have emitted a slight moan as they pressed closer, but it was hard to tell over Rin’s own heavy breathing.

_All this because some guy wanted to draw flowers_ , Rin thought, as Haru’s fingers threaded through his hair, the flowers adorning it tumbling to the floor.

But Haru suddenly pulled away. “Oh.”

“Hn? What it is?”

Haru looked down at his palm, then to the top of Rin’s head. “You have paint in your hair.”

But Rin only laughed, kissing Haru’s palm so the red paint was on his lips, too.

“I’m not kissing you now!” Haru cried, when Rin’s paint-splattered lips touched his cheek. He jumped off his lap but not fast enough; Rin was on him, wrapping his arms around his retreating figure, nearly stumbling into the easel. Haru pulled them both away so they tumbled to the floor instead, a bewildered Haru lying on his back, trapped beneath Rin’s arms.

“Here,” Haru said.

Rin’s breath caught when Haru’s hand squeezed between their torsos, reaching into the pocket of his smock. They didn’t break eye contact as he pulled out a rag, gently wiping the wet paint from Rin’s lips. Haru’s eyes softened then, less stoic and indifferent but almost _gentle_ , glancing at those lips to ensure all traces of red paint were gone.

“How about now?” Rin asked, as Haru dropped the rag.

Haru replied with another kiss.

He wouldn’t deny wanting Haru’s clothes off— _now_. Again, Rin was the only one shirtless, Haru’s body beneath layers of fabric. He reached under the smock, slipping a hand beneath Haru’s T-shirt to stroke his belly. This made Haru kiss him harder, grasp him tighter, and Rin wondered if Haru, too, wanted to feel their skin pressed together again.

“I have to go back,” Rin said between kisses.

Haru kissed him once more. “You have to get up first.”

He did, reluctantly, already cold with Haru’s absence and dizzy with kisses. Haru propped onto his elbows as he watched Rin cross the room for his shirt. And Rin took his time, flexing his back as he pulled the shirt on, aware that Haru now studied him as something more than an artistic model.

When he turned, Haru was still on the floor, head tilted, making no secret about checking him out.

Rin couldn’t move for a moment—just the sight of Haru lying there was enough to knock the wind from him, with the stupid way he bent one knee and that smear of red paint on his cheek.

“What?” Haru asked, lifting his eyes as Rin approached.

_I don’t want to go back_ , he wanted to say. _I want to stay here with you_. He stared at Haru’s figure beneath the smock, at his hair disheveled from Rin’s own hands. And he could _swear_ Haru’s gaze lingered at his crotch when he’d looked up, which made him feel warm all over again.

Rin stepped one leg over him, watching Haru’s face as he settled down again to sit on his stomach. Haru’s hands immediately went to his thighs when Rin leaned over, softly kissing his lips and smearing the splotch of paint on his cheek with his thumb.

“I’ll see you later,” Rin said, dabbing red paint on Haru’s nose.

He had to get up again.

This time Haru stood as well, brushing off the seat of his pants as he moved back to the canvas. But Rin couldn’t resist one last embrace—he squeezed him tight around the middle, Haru yelping as he stumbled. This time Rin steered them away from the easel but tipped over too far, too close to the wall, and his back was impaled by the corner of a low shelf.

He felt his lungs deflate, convinced that the metal corner had drawn blood as it rattled in its brackets. And then Haru leaped away from him—faster than Rin thought he could move, though his vision was hazy with pain—and it wasn’t until Rin staggered upright did he realize why Haru had gone quiet all of a sudden.

Rin voice was hoarse in his throat. “Oh shit.”

He’d ignored the canvas propped into the corner of the room, concealed by a sheet, because Haru had made him forget about it—the final project, his big secret. But he couldn’t ignore it now, not when a sharp corner of a shelf had sliced the sheet clean through, undoubtedly piercing the canvas hidden beneath it.

“Haru . . .”

Despite the shooting pain in his back, Rin tried to slide the shelf back in place. But Haru grunted in protest. He did it himself, carefully moving it away from the canvas before tearing away the sheet. What Rin could see of the painting, the part that hadn’t been destroyed, was beautiful beyond words. He recognized each flower, even though some were only outlines—the subject of his own craft, the flowers Haru had spent so long studying in his shop, so long ago, before . . . all of this.

“Haru, I—”

“You have to go back,” Haru said. He didn’t sound angry or upset, which scared Rin even more.

He would’ve loved an ice pack, or to check and make sure he wasn’t trailing blood all over the place, but instead he nodded—even though Haru had his back to him—and let himself out. 

* * *

 

The next few days were quiet.

Besides the incessant blabbering from his assistant, Rin didn’t talk to anyone outside his customers. He wasn’t surprised that he hadn’t heard from Haru, but he was a little hurt that his friends hadn’t popped in, either. Even his sister was too busy studying for finals to come visit, though she would call the shop sometimes.

She never asked about Haru, though. And Rin didn’t ask about him—he knew that Gou saw him at school all the time, but that hurt even more. All he had was an empty space where a quiet art student once sat, and a spinning rack of stupid greeting cards that he’d once helped organize.

And the times they’d eaten lunch together. And the walks through town after dark, and holding hands at Rei’s exhibition, and modeling at the studio . . .

“I’ll be in the back,” Rin told Nitori, and locked himself in the office.

_I’m not crying_ , he told himself, as the tears pooled in his eyes. He pulled a checkbook register from the desk to busy himself and blankly stared at the numbers, which soon began to go blurry. _Haru sat in this chair_ , he thought, violently rubbing at his eyes, trying to think of _some_ remnant of him in his life. They didn’t even have a damn picture together. Rin wished he’d have bought one of his paintings, or something. Did Haru even sell them? Would he have, for Rin?

After a week, there was only one time that Haru didn't occupy his mind—it was the graduation rush, with parents coming in to buy their children celebratory bouquets, and Rin was too busy slapping flowers together to think of anything but the shop. It helped that Nitori no longer required supervision, taking care of the smaller orders by himself.

Once, he saw a woman who resembled Nagisa (he couldn’t be graduating yet, right? Wasn’t he younger?), and Rin slumped back onto his stool behind the counter.

“Nitori,” he said, as the boy swept stray leaves from the floor, “hanging in there?”

“Yes!” He beamed, wiping a hand on his apron. “I like it when it’s busy!” When Rin simply nodded, though, he slowly approached, accidentally kicking aside the debris pile he’d just swept up. “Is everything okay, mentor? You’ve been really quiet lately. And I haven’t seen Nanase-san . . .”

“I’m fine,” he snapped, but then sighed, raking a hand through his hair. “He’s just busy.”

But before Nitori could reply, pointing out the obvious lie, the bell over the door jingled and in strode Rei, as prim as ever. Rin’s heart leaped at seeing _any_ of Haru’s friends, if it couldn’t be Haru himself. Rei came right up the counter and adjusted his glasses before he even said a word.

“Rin-san! I apologize that we haven’t spoken recently.”

Rin hadn’t yet stood from his stool. _But we’ve never spoken without Haru there_ , he thought, bewildered.

Rei went on. “The department of visual arts has been vigorously working, so we have little time to socialize. But I wanted to stop by and give you this.” He pulled a piece of paper from his book bag which, at first glance, seemed to be a flier. “I hope you are able to attend.”

Rei continued to stand there as Rin finally came forward, reading the flier upside-down on the countertop. Haru’s portfolio showing . . . even the flier itself was artistic, bordered with familiar-looking blossoms, which distracted Rin enough that he almost didn’t notice that the event was scheduled for the following day.

Rin swallowed. “Rei, I—”

“It’s such a pleasure to have one outside the university supporting our students,” Rei interrupted. “It was an honor to have you at my exhibition, and I am certain Haruka-senpai would feel the same.”

Rin flipped the flier right-side up so he could read it properly. “ _Certain_ , huh?”

“Yes! I apologize I cannot stay; I have a lunch meeting. But I look forward to seeing you tomorrow.” And with that, he was gone.

Rin traced the border of the flier, recognizing the flowers immediately—ones he had seen on a torn canvas, on a day that already felt like it was so long ago. It had been easy to go back to work, to pretend that Haru had never happened, but Rin still felt his kisses and craved them even more. And he still saw that small smile in his mind when he closed his eyes, still imagined how it would feel to have Haru sleep in his bed—

“Mentor?”

Rin jerked up with a start.

“C-can I . . . take my lunch break?”

“Huh?” Rin glanced up at the clock; it was way past Nitori’s scheduled break. “Yeah, get out of here. See you in an hour.”

Nitori looked skeptical, but he nodded as he rushed around the counter, probably starving as the door’s bell signaled his departure. Rin sat back on the stool with a sigh, but his break didn’t last long as the bell jingled again.

He heard Gou before he saw her. “Onii-chaaan?”

“Yo.”

She strode in, flier in hand, with Makoto trailing behind. Gou beamed when spotting the flier Rei had left on the counter. “Oh good! You got one.”

“Yeah, I got it.” He turned to Makoto, but didn’t have a chance to even say hi before she kept on talking.

“You’re coming, right?”

She had formed it as a question, but judging by the way she glared at him there was only one suitable answer. “We’ll see,” he said.

It was not the suitable answer. “You’re coming! Don’t be stupid.”

“Gou,” Makoto said, lightly touching her shoulder. Rin’s eye twitched, that motion alone almost pulling him from his brooding.

“It’s ridiculous,” Gou said, and Rin was pleased when she shook him off. “All _you’re_ doing”—she motioned to Rin—“is sitting around feeling sorry for yourself, and Haruka-senpai—”

“You should come, Rin,” Makoto said, cutting her off.

_Haruka-senpai is what?_ Rin thought, suddenly curious. Crying himself to sleep? (Not like Rin was, or anything, definitely not). Plotting new and creative ways to kill him?

Gou slapped the flier on the counter, then leaned over to kiss her brother on the cheek. “If you don’t come tomorrow, I will drag you there myself.”

He didn’t doubt it. But he wasn’t even given a chance to protest before she waved goodbye, calling to Makoto that she’d see him later, hurrying out the door for her next class.

“Are you dating my sister?” Rin blurted.

Makoto was still mid-wave, now frozen in place, thawing slowly as he turned to Rin. “No,” he said, and though Rin didn’t know him _that_ well, he knew he wasn’t lying.

Rin could’ve stopped there. It had been stupid to ask, but Makoto’s cheeks were tinged pink now, and he’d so obviously watched Gou leave the shop, and he knew ( _from Haru_ , he thought mournfully) that Makoto was into girls . . . Rin hated that he was going to continue this conversation, but talking about someone else’s love life—even his own sister’s—would maybe distract him from his own failed attempt. “Do you want to?”

If Makoto had been embarrassed before, now it looked like he wanted to die. He stared at the fliers on the countertop, anything not to meet Rin’s eyes. After a too-long pause he finally looked up and said, “Gou-chan is really nice. I don’t know her that well outside school, but . . .” He suddenly brightened, which threw Rin completely off-track. “Maybe we could double date!”

“With my sister?” He vehemently shook his head. “No.”

But Makoto was smooth. He hadn't admitted anything, but revealed enough interest that Rin knew. Maybe he understood the inner turmoil—fearing to admit he liked someone, afraid of all that entailed. Whether it be dealing with a moody art student (in Rin's case) or an overprotective florist (poor Makoto).

“It would be perfect, actually,” Makoto said, stroking his chin in thought. “You’re really protective of her, right? So she can still go out, and you can be right there!”

Gou would probably hate Rin for agreeing, but Makoto’s logic was sound. Assuming she even wanted to. However . . . “That would be great, but I’d need a date, too.”

“Rin.” Rin wanted to hate that smile of his, but it was oddly comforting, like Makoto knew exactly what he was thinking. He probably did, too. “Come to the showing tomorrow. Haru will be glad to see you.”

Rin crossed his arms over his chest. “But he _hates_ me.”

“He doesn’t hate you. How about Gou and I come pick you up, and we can all go together? It might be better than having her forcibly drag you.”

Rin was unconvinced. But Makoto seemed level-headed enough, and he couldn’t really doubt his sister’s judgment, either. He would’ve loved to barrage Makoto with questions right then, asking what the heck Haru thought about him, if he thought of him at all . . . but there was still a chance that maybe he did.

Whether Rin asked or not he’d find out the following day, anyway. So he simply agreed to go instead.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry I'm slow updating this, friends. I've been consumed with Fluid Like Water (what a ridiculous monstrosity) but I _promise_ I haven't forgotten you faithful readers. I LOVE YOU.

He’d made an effort to attend Haru’s portfolio showing. If anyone had asked his sister, or his mother, or even Nitori, they would say he’d done everything to get there. Rin was dressed nicer than usual at the flower shop, never taking off his apron so he wouldn’t dirty the gray-and-white striped shirt underneath. He couldn’t waste any time—he had just enough time to lock up and get over there and still see something, even if that meant facing the man he’d been fearing to face for more days than he’d admit.

Makoto and Gou did come by as promised, but Rin couldn’t talk. Right before they popped in he received a last-minute rush order, a funeral in the next town over. Their florist had backed out, so they’d called Rin. And he _couldn’t_ say no to a funeral, listening to the guy on the phone cry over a dead parent. They needed it _today_.

“You _have_ to come,” Gou said, as Rin was bustling around a standing wreath.

“We’ll see,” Rin replied. “I’ve gotta deliver this.” He turned to his assistant. “Nitori, did you find those ribbons?”

He didn’t _want_ to go to a funeral. He didn’t want to see the mourning family, who smiled despite their tears when he and Nitori pulled up to the church.

“Mentor,” Nitori whispered, pulling him aside. “You should go to the gallery. I can do this.”

Already the funeral director was opening the back of the van, carefully removing the flower arrangements.

Rin shook his head. “I have some time,” he said. “Let’s go.”

It took longer than he’d expected. Each family member shook his hand, expressing their eternal gratitude. He tried to pry them off, insisting they should go honor their deceased father (or husband, or grandfather, whichever), and finally he was able to escape.

It was highly unprofessional—he’d never left a funeral so quickly, and in the history of the flower shop the assistant was never the one on-call in case of emergencies. But Nitori proudly held the company cell phone, grasping it for dear life in both hands as Rin drove the van back to town. Rin even dropped him off at home, making him promise to call if disaster struck.

And he _had_ to bring flowers to Haru. Rin rushed back to the shop and threw something together, _anything_ , so he didn’t show up empty-handed. He wanted to avoid red roses ( _How romantic_ , he thought with a sigh), but he mixed them in with other colors so it didn’t look so obvious.

He couldn’t say he’d ever run across town with a bouquet of roses, but there was a first time for everything.

But Rin knew before he got to the building. He knew, with the dark lobby, and how the building’s exterior lights were the only ones on. He had a flier at the flower shop, but hadn’t bothered to check it. Now, one of those same fliers was still posted at the entrance, with an arrow pointing toward the double doors—and it clearly stated that the showing had ended an hour prior.

He clutched his roses to his chest, resting his forehead on the cool bricks of the building.

“He definitely hates me now,” he mumbled, suddenly hating the smell of roses.

Rin tried the front door, surprised that it was still open. He poked his head in, and went inside though the foyer was empty. Signs for Haru’s exhibition were still affixed to the walls, the black arrows pointing the way. He followed them slowly, the click of his heels echoing down the empty hall. Distantly he heard a low hum, which may have been a furnace or someone buffing the tiles on an upper floor.

The doors to the exhibition hall were closed, but unlocked. Rin looked around, a little afraid of being caught, though he hadn’t seen a single person yet. He swallowed hard before opening the doors, seeing the shadows of paintings around the dark room. He groped the wall for a light switch, all the while holding the flowers to his chest.

He bit back a sob when the exhibition hall was illuminated. It was like the room was filled with mirrors, if his reflection had been frozen in time and beautifully stylized on canvas.

It was him. So many paintings of him. Some weren’t as obvious—his back to the artist, standing behind the counter in the flower shop—and some didn’t resemble a human being at all, splotches of reds and pinks on canvas. But the portraits . . . Rin slowly stepped into the room, focusing on the gallery’s centerpiece. He thought he’d feel embarrassed, knowing everyone had seen it. But there he was—lounging in a red leather armchair, head tilted toward the sunlight, shirtless and adorned in flowers. Haru had added more flowers than he remembered being there. The canvas was more like a garden, his chair surrounded by bursting color, the sunlight beaming over his face and artistically-sculpted abs.

Was it faux pas to touch a work of art, to feel the strokes beneath your fingertips?

He did it anyway.

The surface was rough but the strokes were smooth at the same time. He traced a stroke of his own pant leg, almost feeling it on his own body. He studied his face, touching a painted red rose in his hair.

He looked away, but only to see the rest of the gallery.

Rin walked the room slowly. He tried to remember everything he’d learned about art from Haru and Rei. He recognizes certain styles, understood the aesthetic qualities of color combinations. It was easier than in Rei’s exhibition, because here there were so many flowers. And himself, even if not directly. Sometimes it was a stroke that resembled a strand of hair, sometimes merely a pair of hands entwined with rings of flowers. But always his.

He stared a long time at a painting of a road lined with cherry blossom, so life-like that he thought it was a photograph. Rin could almost _see_ the blossoms fluttering in the breeze. He touched the road, following the unpaved path into the distance, where two small figures stood at a stream. Were they holding hands? Were their heads tilted toward each other, time frozen before they kissed? They were too small to tell, leaving it open to interpretation. Rin imagined them laughing together, splashing in the cold water, the stream’s surface dotted with cherry blossom petals.

Then, for the second time that day, he was running across town cradling a bouquet of roses.

Was Haru’s building locked? Would he even be able to get in? He ignored the stares of passersby, shielding his bouquet from the wind with an open palm. He was panting when he reached Haru’s building, pulling on the door only to find it locked.

“Of all the stupid…” He muttered as he pulled out his phone, but paused before dialing Haru’s number. _I can’t call Haru_ , he thought, staring at his name in his phone. Rin growled, kicking the front stoop, wishing he’d have _anyone_ else’s numbers…

“Gou!” He quickly dialed his sister.

“Look who it is,” Gou said. There was music in the background, which was quickly lowered.

“Gou, do you have Makoto’s number? I need to get in Haru’s building. I need—”

“What?” She cut him off. “Makoto-senpai is right here.”

He was too busy trying to calm down to be annoyed that they were hanging out, that Makoto was probably checking out his sister, maybe even thinking about _kissing_ her…

“Rin?” Makoto came on. “Is everything all right?”

“I need to get in! You have to let me in your building!”

He chuckled softly, and somehow the fact that he wasn’t freaking out calmed Rin a little. “Hang on, I’ll be right down.”

Rin fidgeted in place. _I won’t lecture Makoto about having Gou in his room_ , he thought. _I’m not here for that. But what_ is _she doing here? Are they dating? Has he tried anything funny?_

The moment Makoto opened the door Rin blurted, “Why is my sister in your room?!”

Makoto paled, one hand on the doorknob, taking in Rin’s bedraggled appearance. His once-pristine shirt was now drenched in sweat; the flowers he’d tried so hard to protect were wilting in his hands. “R-rei and Nagisa are here too…”

“What about Haru?!” he cried. A couple students passing on the sidewalk stopped, staring at him, which he tried to ignore. Makoto glanced at them before stepping back, motioning for Rin to come inside.

“He’s in his room,” he said carefully, as he closed the door. “He was tired after the showing.” When Rin’s shoulders slumped he added, “But he wouldn’t mind some company.”

If Makoto said anything after that, Rin didn’t hear it. He bolted, bypassing the elevator because it would be too slow. He took the stairs two at a time, feet pounding down the now-familiar hallway to the drab, brown door he knew Haru was residing behind.

And then he stopped, staring at the door, catching his breath.

Rin pressed his ear to the door, thinking maybe he could hear something. It was pretty quiet inside, but then he heard bare feet padding across the floor. He closed his eyes and listened to the opening of a cabinet, a rattle of paintbrushes in a tin can. And then Rin pounded on the door.

He couldn’t hold back the tears when Haru opened it. He’d felt them coming on since standing in the gallery, but now rivers streamed from his eyes and dripped down the point of his chin, into the bouquet of roses. He knew how stupid he looked, if only by Haru’s wide-eyed expression. _He looks so damn cute_ , Rin thought, and only cried harder. Haru was fresh from a shower, water still clinging to his black hair, and he was in a stupid T-shirt with some creepy fish on it and a pair of shorts. But he looked so _adorable_ , and so  _concerned_ , and Rin thrust the bouquet out toward him.

“I’m so sorry,” Rin blurted. “I’m sorry for ruining your project and missing the exhibition and”—he swallowed a sob—“I— I went to the gallery and—”

“You went to the gallery?”

Haru’s voice was calm as usual, and Rin felt like a complete idiot, making a fool out of himself and rambling so much that he didn’t even know what he was saying. And Haru was staying as cool as ever, still watching him as he accepted the flowers. He lifted them to his nose, breathing in their scent like it would smell different than any other roses he’d ever smelled.

Rin nodded.

Haru gently took his wrist and guided him inside, closing the door behind them. He stared at the flowers, fluffing a stray rose that had been windblown. Then he cupped the base of Rin’s head, holding the flowers firm in the other hand, and kissed him.

Haru had never tasted so sweet. His arms wrapped around Rin and he could feel the flowers on the back of his neck, their soft petals on his exposed skin. Rin tried not to desperately grab for him but it couldn’t be helped; he couldn’t hold Haru fast enough. When Haru parted his lips Rin couldn’t hold back a gasp, tasting the mackerel and pineapple on his tongue, and even though Rin _hated_ mackerel and pineapple it was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

When Haru backed away he pushed Rin’s hair from his face, and swept away a tear with his finger.

“I loved your gallery,” Rin said, and thought he’d melt away when Haru smiled.

“Will you stay tonight?” Haru asked.

He could only nod in response.

Haru picked at the collar of Rin’s shirt, which was still damp and clammy. “You need to shower first. I’ll give you some clothes.”

It was the fastest shower of his life. And then Rin was wearing Haru’s clothes, which were a little tight, but he didn’t care. Haru sat to one side of the mattress when Rin crawled in beside him, and suddenly Haru’s scent was overwhelming. All the times they’d embraced and kissed it was _then_ that Rin felt surrounded by him, absorbing every fiber of his being as he sat in that bed.

Rin couldn’t stop shaking as they lay down and already Haru was kissing him. Just kissing. Haru played with Rin’s hair; Rin dared to lift Haru’s shirt a little to feel his bare hip. They were both incapable of hiding their smiles when they broke apart, mirroring the other’s stupid, happy grin.

“I’m sorry about the project,” Rin said, stroking Haru’s hip with his thumb. “I was stupid.”

“I already forgave you,” Haru admitted. “And Makoto told me about the funeral. It’s okay.”

Rin slid his hand a little higher, catching Haru’s quick shudder. “You know,” he said, “this shirt’s kind of snug on me. Mind if I take it off?”

Haru shrugged. “Up to you.”

Haru removed his own shirt, too, snuggling against Rin as they lay back on the mattress. And there was no better feeling—Haru’s cool body against his, and the clean, fresh scent of his skin. Haru traced the muscles on Rin's chest and stomach, as if he were a living canvas.

“You didn’t tell me your mom painted,” Haru said.

“She’s hardly an artist,” Rin scoffed. “One class at university. She was all right.”

“I want to see it.”

Rin smiled, kissing the top of Haru’s head. “Yeah, you’ll see it.”

Haru’s bed was comfortable. Rin had never shared a bed before, and he thought it would be weird, but it was nice. A little more crowded than he was used to, and their positions weren’t really comfortable—Haru’s head was pinching a nerve in his arm—so they shifted around a lot, silently, trying to find a good spot.

But it didn’t matter, not when Haru started to kiss him, lying half on top of him. It _was_ easier that way, Rin had to admit, not that any of that mattered with Haru’s warm lips against his. Haru seemed to like his hair, too, as he ran his fingers through it, and Rin responded by hugging him closer, feeling the pulse of Haru’s heartbeat.

“Do you want to learn?” Haru asked.

“Hn?” Rin was preoccupied kissing along his jawline.

“How to paint.”

He lay his head onto his overly plush pillow. “You’re gonna teach me?”

Haru scooted closer. “If you want.”

“Sure. Yeah, okay.” Rin kissed him again. He was convinced he’d never grow weary of feeling those lips. “You want to try your hand at floristry?”

Haru didn’t hesitate. “Okay.”

* * *

 

Rin was used to waking up early in the morning. It was part of his routine: up with the sunrise for a jog, then a quick shower before opening the flower shop. But he knew the sun was rising—he could see the orange tint of the air outside the window—and he was still in bed, and there was a beautiful man sleeping beside him.

Rin had never been drunk, but he now understood the fuzzy-headed feeling. The wonder over what happened the previous night, only knowing that it was good, and that you wanted to do it again.

Even that felt strange to say. The hadn’t been intimate, not really, unless he counted the hours they were kissing before falling asleep. And he’d definitely felt Haru get hard, but Haru hadn’t reacted and wasn’t embarrassed by it. Rin had tried to hide his own arousal, shifting around the bed so Haru wasn’t lying across him _there_ , but it was no use. And when Haru smiled at him, stroking his cheek, it didn’t even matter.

 _Dammit_ , Rin thought, listening to Haru’s soft breathing as he slept. _Isn’t that what love is?_

He sighed, kissed Haru’s forehead, and then quietly slipped out of bed. He’d make them breakfast, but then he had to go to work.

Not that he knew where anything was in Haru’s kitchenette. And he didn’t have any real _breakfast_ food, so he reluctantly grilled some fish. The scent of mackerel must have woken Haru, because Rin heard the slight shift of the bed, and pretended not to hear him padding barefoot across the studio.

Haru’s arms were suddenly around his waist, his head pressed between his shoulder blades. “’Morning.”

 _I’m never getting anything done ever again_ , Rin thought, turning around in Haru’s arm to greet him with a kiss. _What a distraction._

_But a cute one._

“You’re making mackerel?” Haru said, leaning on Rin’s shoulder when he turned back to the stove.

“You don’t have anything else!”

Rin tried not to pout when Haru walked away, hoping he hadn’t said anything to offended him _already_ , when he’d only been awake a whole ten minutes. He checked the fish—twice for good measure—before turning off the portable grill, keeping an ear out for Haru moving around the studio. It was strangely domestic, making breakfast while Haru shuffled about, and when Rin turned with the plates in hand Haru was already seated at the table with a cardboard box.

“What’s in there?” Rin asked, setting breakfast on the table.

“I want to give you something.” Haru eyed the fish, which meant either he was really excited about the food—a legitimate option—or too embarrassed to face Rin while he studied the plain cardboard box. He sat, lifting the box to his ear and shaking it. Its contents rattled softly inside.

“It’s not a lot, but…” Haru took up his chopsticks, finally looking up at Rin. “Just open it.”

The cardboard lid was taped shut and Rin ran his thumb around it, loosening the edges. When he lifted the lid, there were… greeting cards.

He picked one up carefully, like he was afraid to crease it. There was a sunflower on the front, but nothing like the boring sunflowers on the cards at the flower shop. Rin recognized the style instantly, one he'd seen in this very studio and on display at the gallery the previous night. He looked up at Haru, but neither said anything as he picked up the next one.

Roses; wisteria; cherry blossoms; tulips. Each card presented a beautifully-stylized flower, the colors bursting on the page. Rin touched the drawing like it were real, like he expected to feel the soft petals of each flower.

“If you like them,” Haru said, “we can get them printed in bulk.”

“Haru . . .”

Haru looked away, a slight flush on his cheeks as he swallowed. “I thought it might be better than those dumb cards you have in your shop.”

Rin softly laughed, still staring at the cards as he fitted the lid back on. “Those dumb cards are stick figures compared to these. These are… they’re beautiful, Haru.” He leaned across the table to kiss his cheek, but Haru met his lips instead. He already tasted like fish but Rin was so used to it that he didn’t even care.

By the time he left for work, it felt like he was floating. He was still buzzed from sleeping beside Haru, and he laughed that they’d only been _sleeping_. Kissing, sure, but not even fully naked or anything, just… together. He wondered if he could handle anything more. He thought he’d just explode if their relationship progressed, with nights sleeping naked together and touches below the waist and…

 _Stop thinking about it!_ he thought, touching his burning cheeks. _Not now!_

He darted up to the apartment to change before going to work, splashing his face with cold water before heading back downstairs.

It was a quiet morning. Nitori wasn’t coming in until the afternoon, and few people came in to buy flowers at nine o’clock in the morning. He had to restock the greeting cards—they looked so _boring_ now—and update the window display, and service the few customers who came jingling through the door. Rin couldn’t stop staring at the clock, counting down the minutes until Haru’s lunch break. He hadn’t specifically _said_ he’d stop by, but it wasn’t unreasonable to hope that he would, right?

As if on cue, Haru came through the door at twelve thirty.

“Haru,” he said, hating how giggly his voice sounded, but Haru neither noticed nor cared. Even though a customer was right behind him (with his back to them, but still) Haru leaned over the counter, waiting for Rin’s kiss. It was a brief peck but it was sweet, and it warmed Rin just as much as his kisses had the night before.

Haru set a book on the counter, and Rin had been spending enough time with him lately to recognize it as a sketchbook.

“Drawing today?” Rin singsonged, touching the corner of the book.

Haru shook his head. “This is yours.”

“Huh? Me?”

“You want to paint, right?”

Haru dug a pack of pencils from his bag as Rin opened the sketchbook. It was blank, of course, but he still hoped for some hint that it belonged to Haru, whether it was a sketch or even a stray pencil mark. He had to pry himself away from the book to help the customer, but once he was out the door Rin turned to see Haru behind the counter, and a single pencil lying across the open sketchbook.

“You should sketch what you want first,” he explained. “It makes painting easier later.”

Rin picked up the pencil delicately, like it would break. “I can’t just start painting?”

“No. You start with an outline.” He sidestepped closer to Rin. If one were to stand on the other side of the counter, nothing would be apparent. But from the inside their hips touched, and Haru rubbed his foot against Rin’s as he spoke. “When you get to be as good as me,” he continued, “you won’t need an outline.”

Rin smirked. “Is that so?” He twirled the pencil in his fingers, looking around the shop, and then at Haru.

He froze for a moment. Haru was so close, and he watched him so carefully. Rin remembered all of a sudden how he’d looked when he first sat in the shop, and he'd seemed so distant and expressionless. But now Rin saw what others missed—the slight sparkle in his eyes (or was that just for Rin?) and the curve of his mouth that was almost a smile. Rin glanced over his shoulder, ensuring no customers were about to stride through the door, and kissed Haru’s lips.

“I liked that you stayed over last night,” Haru said out of nowhere.

This guy was adorable. And infuriating. How _dare_ he just come out and say something like that, in the middle of the flower shop, leaving Rin all flustered? The corner of Haru’s mouth lifted, the sign of a smile coming on, and Rin looked away even though his cheeks were already red again.

“So what do I draw?” he said, staring at the blank page. “Can I draw you?”

“Portraits are hard to start with,” Haru replied. “Why don’t you try flowers? You know them well.”

He tried sketching. Haru selected a bouquet from the shelves and set it on the counter, instructing Rin to just “draw what he sees.”

“I see a bunch of flowers,” he replied.

Haru huffed. “Look harder.”

He studied them. He thought of his impromptu art lessons from Haru and his friends. Shapes began to emerge, and shadows, and dimensions. Haru told him to look at the flowers more than the sketch, and he tried. It was surprisingly successful—like he drew from memory, simply translating what he saw onto the clean, white paper.

“It’s lopsided,” Rin said, tilting his head at his sketch.

“It’s okay for a first try,” Haru said. “You can try it again.”

“How about this?” Rin pushed aside the sketchbook, gently lying the pencil over his work. “I’ll teach you how to arrange flowers.”

Rin liked flower arranging better than sketching. It was hands-on, and three-dimensional. Haru understood the basics easily enough, having an eye for aesthetics, and could already see which flowers looked better together. The ones he’d selected for his bouquet complimented one another well, but the actual bouquet assembly posed more of a challenge. Haru had selected a red ribbon to tie around it, but the flowers kept on shifting when he’d tie the knot. He grumbled as he set the bouquet on the counter, retying the knot no less than four times, ultimately holding it out toward Rin. The bouquet was lopsided, more roses to one side and far too much baby’s breath.

“For you,” Haru said, holding his asymmetrical bouquet to Rin.

Rin smiled as he accepted it, burying his nose in the roses. “It’s perfect.”

"Not it's not," Haru said. “Don’t say that.” And then Rin kissed him again, this time not even bothering to check whether anyone was watching.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, fun story: Remember in the last chapter, when Haru casually asked about Rin's mom painting? Yeah, did you wonder _how_ he knows that?  
>  Technically, he doesn't. It's a reference to a scene I cut earlier in the chapter. OOPS. This is why editing is your friend!  
> (Let's just pretend he magically knows, okay? I posted the deleted scene on [tumblr](http://letsswimtogethernanase.tumblr.com/post/89758589068), if you're curious.)

Rin couldn’t keep the new greeting cards stocked fast enough. At first he kept the price low, but when he bumped them up a dollar no one noticed. He wanted to split the small profits with Haru, but he refused.

“I made them for you,” Haru said.

“Let me take you out, then.”

They hadn’t yet been on a “proper” date, at least not one that didn’t include all their friends or hadn’t occurred in the back room of the flower shop. Rin had insisted on taking him out without any idea what they would do, and Haru had agreed so fast that it didn’t take long for Rin to have some minor anxiety over it.

“Like what?” Haru asked.

Rin smirked. “It’s a surprise.”

 _Because I have no idea_ , he thought, hoping his smile hid the fact that he was completely clueless.

Rin didn’t know the first thing about dating—as it was, neither he nor Haru had officially asked the other out, but they fell into the roll of “boyfriends” anyway. Already, Haru’s friends were calling Rin if they couldn’t find him (Haru was terrible about answering his phone), and he was a constant at the flower shop during his lunch break.

But the days were steadily crawling into summer, and with that there was only one place Rin could think to take him on a first date—provided it didn’t rain.

Rin refused to reveal his surprise, even after Haru met him at the flower shop the day of their date. Nitori would be manning the shop for the remainder of the day, and Rin wasn’t even going to bring his work phone with him.

“If anything explodes,” he told Nitori, “you can always call my sister.”

“I’ll be fine, mentor! Have fun!”

Haru eyed the oversized cooler Rin slung over his shoulder. But he’d given up on asking—for the past two days Haru had wondered aloud where they were going, but Rin pretended not to hear anything. And the cooler gave nothing away—it was shut tight and only smelled faintly of flowers, a byproduct of being stored in his apartment over the shop.

The city buses would only take them so far. They boarded the bus and found seats in the back, and the cooler took up all Rin’s leg room. He perched his feet on top of it, then held Haru’s hand when the bus started to move.

“Can you at least tell me which stop?”

“Sure,” Rin replied. “We’re going to the end. You don’t mind a little walk, do you?”

Haru squinted at the bus map at the front of the bus. Rin could see the way he visually traced their route’s lines, even if he couldn’t read the stop names from such a distance. “I’ve never been out that way.”

“Perfect!”

Rin hadn’t stopped to think whether or not Haru had ever traveled out there, but now he was pleased to hear he hadn’t. When he was a kid, Rin always thought of it as “his” place. He knew better now—it wasn’t quite as secluded as he’d remembered—but there was still a deep part of him that believed only his family knew of its existence, and that he was the only one who still remembered it was there.

When they disembarked a half hour later, it felt like they were in a different country. They’d grown so used to the clustered buildings of the city that it seemed impossible such vast country was greeting them now, and not too far from where they lived. Haru breathed in deep; Rin hoped he smelled the salt water in the distance. But they weren’t going down to the beach today—he threaded their fingers together, guiding him toward a path that lead uphill.

He hadn’t thought to tell Haru to wear comfortable shoes. He did wear sneakers, thankfully; Rin had forgotten how steep the walk was, though it wasn’t as bad as he’d thought it was when he was a kid. The paved path turned into dirt, which turned into merely a trail of rocks the farther they went uphill.

“Did you used to live out here?” Haru asked.

“My mom did, before my parents got married,” Rin replied. “Sometimes we’d come out here to get away. Dad called it ‘clearing his lungs.’” The trees lining the path started to peter out and they came upon a small, grassy clearing. The sun seemed closer, warmer after their trek uphill. Rin dropped the cooler to the ground. “Let me show you.” Rin tugged him along to a barrier at the edge of the overhang.

Haru’s eyes widened. They were even more beautiful here in the crisp, country air, almost sparkling in the sunlight. “Wow.”

It was just like Rin remembered—the entire countryside could be seen from their vantage point, with the ocean in the distance. “That’s where we came from,” Rin said, pointing to the pinprick that was the bus depot. “And”—he squinted, scanning the beachfront—“there! See that little hut on the beach? By that group of kids?” Haru leaned closer, following the line of Rin’s arm to where he pointed. “That’s where my parents met. Ma sold Dad an ice cream when she was fifteen.”

Haru’s head was on his shoulder, and his hand on his hip, and it felt good. _Really_ good. Rin leaned back into him, and then Haru’s lips were on the exposed curve of his shoulder, the collar of his T-shirt tugged down a little. He let out a satisfied sigh, which was apparently a signal for Haru to kiss his neck more.

Rin was starving. There were all kinds of goodies packed in the cooler, and his stomach was whining from the walk, but Haru had never kissed him like _this_ , and he didn’t want him to stop. He smelled the ocean off the breeze, and Haru’s fresh, clean scent as he arched his neck . . .

“Haru,” he whispered, hating that he was gently nudging him away. He felt Haru’s mouth curve into a smile before he backed up. “Let’s eat something first.”

It had been ages since Rin had gone on a picnic, and he’d never before been the one to pack it. Haru examined the sandwiches and opened the plastic containers that held cold salads.

“My dad used to take my sister and me up here a lot,” he said, opening a container of sliced fruit. He held a chuck of watermelon out to Haru, and he ate it off his fingers. “He liked to see the ocean, and we never saw other people up here. I thought it was his secret spot.”

Haru looked around. The clearing was small, and if anyone was approaching, they’d probably be able to hear them climbing over the rocky path. “So now it’s our secret spot?”

“Well”—Rin smirked, leaning closer—“my sister knows about it, too.”

Haru shrugged, seemingly indifferent. “She doesn’t count.”

When Rin kissed him, he tasted like watermelon. Haru’s fingers were threaded through the hair at his temples, his mouth opening to taste the fruit salad on Rin’s tongue. Again, Rin hated that he was pulling away. “I’m starving,” he said, stroking Haru’s cheek. “Food first. Kissing later.”

Haru nodded his consent. “Okay.”

While there was no fish in their picnic lunch—fish didn’t really travel well—Haru seemed to enjoy it, slowly eating his vegetarian sandwiches and feeding Rin fruit. “Sorry for no meat,” Rin said, his mouth full of watermelon. “I didn’t have a lot of ice for the cooler.”

“You’re the one who likes meat,” Haru replied. He was sitting beside Rin now, and they leaned into each other as they ate. Rin suddenly grabbed his waist and pulled him into his lap, and then Haru was snuggling against him between his legs. He leaned back against Rin’s steepled leg, slouching slightly so his head fit comfortably beneath Rin’s chin. He ate his sandwich two-handed, leaning his head on Rin’s chest between bites.

Rin was glad he’d selected watermelon. It seemed a very “Haru” type of fruit, and he was eating most of it himself. Sometimes he’d hold a piece up for Rin, and he’d suck it off his fingers. Haru scowled, wiping his hand on Rin’s shirt, but that hand lingered a little too long on his chest.

As promised, the moment the food was gone, Haru went to kiss him again.

His memories of the overlook would be forever changed. He remembered picnics with Dad and Gou, tales of travels and made-up stories of sea monsters that Gou pretended not to fear. He remembered Dad’s weird foreign foods in the picnic hamper, which Rin was skeptical about at first but always devoured.

He would never forget about those picnics, but new memories would be added to it—his first proper date, sharing his secret overlook with Haru, kissing the man he loved—

Rin suddenly froze and Haru broke away, staring at him curiously. Rin turned to the side, coughing into his fist like he’d just inhaled water.

“Rin?”

“I’m okay. Sorry.”

 _Love_. He thought maybe that’s what he felt—he’d never known love outside his family—but he’d thought of it so easily. And it didn’t help that Haru was looking at him so concerned now, with his big, blue eyes and his perfect little downturned eyebrows. _Eyebrows?_ Rin thought, blinking at him steadily. _Did I just think his damn eyebrows are cute?_

Haru rubbed Rin’s back, not even knowing what he consoled him for. _Maybe he does_ , Rin thought, wishing he’d never stop touching him. He scooted even closer, holding tight around Haru’s shoulders as he continued to rub his back.

“Are you okay?” Haru asked, his hand slipping up the back of his shirt.

“Mmm.” He nuzzled Haru’s neck, breathing in his distinct scent.

Haru buried his nose in Rin’s hair. “You smell like flowers.”

“I— I own a flower shop!”

Haru nuzzled closer, his arms tighter around him, and Rin melted into his embrace. He was so warm, and so comfortable . . . “Rin.” Haru interrupted his train of thought. “You should’ve told me to bring my paints.”

“Huh?”

He didn’t sound angry, despite his accusatory tone. “This is a nice place to paint.”

“We can come back. And . . . uh . . . well, if you like painting alone, you can come here without me, too. If you want. But I’d let you.”

Rin couldn’t see his face, but he sensed that Haru approved. There was a shift in his body that he’d learned to recognize. It was subtle, and maybe he wasn’t even smiling, but Haru didn’t always smile when he was happy. He was starting to understand that.

 

* * *

 

Rin felt different after their first date. It felt like they were _really_ going out now, and he could officially call Haru a “boyfriend.” When the shop wasn’t bustling, he’d organize the greeting card rack just to admire his artwork. He started walking around with a flower over his ear, which Gou said looked super-gay, but he didn’t care.

“I’m gay, Gou,” he said, a fact he didn’t so readily admit before.

Gou rolled her eyes. “You’re in love and it’s gross.”

“I am _not_ in love!” He plucked a flower from a nearby bouquet and fit it over his sister’s ear. It was pale green, which contrasted nicely with her hair. Rin prided himself on his new color-matching abilities. “And what about _your_ new boyfriend, hmm?”

Gou huffed. “Makoto is not my boyfriend!”

Rin raised an eyebrow. “Dropping the -senpai so easily?”

“Hmph! Idiot!”

Rin knew for a fact that Makoto _hadn’t_ asked his sister out—he had an “in” now; Haru would keep him posted on anything—and he still wasn’t thrilled with the idea of Gou dating, but teasing her was fun. Besides, Makoto was Haru’s best friend, so maybe it was fate.

They were too busy teasing each other as Rin closed up shop, and he almost didn’t notice when the bell over the door jingled. He inwardly scowled, expecting a last-minute customer, but his face brightened when Haru came through the door. He must have come straight from class, because he carried his schoolbag over his shoulder and a black portfolio case.

“Haru!”

He was obviously too excited, as proven by the way Gou laughed at him. But he ignored her. He shuffled around the counter, then took Haru’s face in his hands to kiss him. It still amazed him that _this_ was his boyfriend, and he could kiss him as much as he wanted. That Haru _wanted_ him to kiss him.

“I’m going home,” Gou said, waving a flippant hand at them both in passing. “Don’t do anything funny in the back room.”

Rin scowled. “Gou!”

She smirked, flipping the “open” sign to “closed” on her way out.

“I’ve just gotta drop this cash in the safe,” Rin said, patting his overstuffed apron pocket.

Haru smiled. “Take your time.”

Rin rushed to the back room to deposit the money, while Haru lay his portfolio over the front counter. He should’ve double-counted the cash before locking it up, but he’d _already_ counted it when he took it out of the drawer, and his numbers were rarely off, and Haru was standing out in the shop by himself. Rin jotted down his deposit in the register before heading back out.

“What’s that?” Rin asked, coming up behind him. He pressed his chest to Haru’s back, holding his hips as Haru held up a canvas.

Rin recognized it—it was one from his portfolio showing, a flower bouquet that Rin once had on display in the shop. But the colors were slightly different, and Rin knew the red of the roses as the same shade he’d used for Rin’s portraits.

“Do you have a spot for it?” Haru asked.

Rin stood up straight, still holding to Haru’s hips. “What?”

“It’s for you.” He held it up higher. “For the shop.”

“Haru . . .”

But already, he had the perfect location in mind—on the wall opposite the counter, in clear view of anyone who walked into the store or stood behind the counter every day. Haru slowly turned, holding the canvas high, scrutinizing the shop. “There,” he said, pointing to the far wall.

It was the exact spot Rin had in mind.

“Are you sure?” he asked, as Haru pushed the canvas into Rin’s arms. He rummaged through his schoolbag, and Rin wasn’t really surprised when he pulled out canvas-hanging tools.

It looked good hanging in his flower shop. Rin walked outside and then back in, just to check its position from the door. It wasn’t the _first_ thing customers would see when walking in—he’d still like for them to see the flowers first—but it was in clear sight, and it would definitely be the first thing _Rin_ saw every time he went to work.

Haru shared one of his small smiles, watching Rin admire his artwork. He touched the flower over Rin’s ear, which he’d forgotten he was wearing. “Do I get one of those?”

Rin touched the rose over his ear, then transferred it to Haru’s hair. It was white, which contrasted really nicely. Haru touched the rose in the same way Rin just had, rolling his eyes back so he could glimpse it in his peripheral vision.

“Since we can’t do anything funny in the back room,” Rin teased, “why don’t we head upstairs?”

Rin knew he was all talk—Haru had never been to his apartment, and he sensed his judgment of it as they climbed the stairs to the little home above the flower shop. “My dad lived here before he met Mom,” Rin said, as way of explanation. The apartment was small, he knew, as he opened the door, greeted by the living room that could only hold a couch and entertainment center. Haru scanned the room from the doorway as Rin hung his keys on a hook.

“I like it,” Haru said. He plopped onto the center of the couch, bouncing slightly as if testing its plushness. Rin could only watch him, amused. He looked so contemplative, studying Rin’s small living space, his palms flat on the couch cushion as he looked around.

Rin stood directly in front of him, their knees touching, and he grinned when their eyes met.

Haru scooted to the edge of the cushion, legs on either side of Rin’s body, and pulled him down so they toppled together to the couch.

“My bed’s more comfortable,” Rin said, as Haru nibbled on his neck. “And bigger.”

 _Now I’m going to start saying stupid things_ , Rin thought, as Haru followed him. _Of course a bed is bigger than a couch. Idiot_. But his head was spinning, and then Haru was in his bedroom. He thought his heart would burst when Haru was lying beside him, one leg already wound around Rin’s thigh.

 _Haru is in my bed_ , he thought, knowing it was stupid. _He’d_ slept in _Haru’s_ bed, but this was different. Haru was making himself at home, wiggling into his life and his bedroom, and Rin didn’t care. Rin _loved_ having him there, he loved how his bed felt even more comfortable with Haru in it. Rin lay on his back as Haru crawled over him, studying each other’s faces before they began kissing again. He felt every inch of Haru’s weight pressed to his body—arms, chest, hips, legs. One of Haru’s legs slipped between his, and he repositioned himself as they kissed. Rin slung one leg around Haru’s back, unembarrassed by the erection poking Haru’s hipbone.

They would only kiss. Rin didn’t think he could handle more. He’d seen Haru’s naked chest—and now, he was sitting up, peeling off his shirt—but he couldn’t physically handle more, especially when he felt Haru’s stiff groin pressing against his thigh. He couldn’t stand how quiet, seemingly indifferent Haru was so excited over _him_. Rin’s arms began to tremble around Haru's waist.

Haru sat up, sitting back on Rin’s hips again. They hadn’t turned on the light, and the last rays of sunlight were seeping through the closed shades. “Rin?”

 _I’m fucking nervous_ , he thought, staring up at Haru’s pale chest. _I want you and I’m a fucking wuss_.

“It’s okay,” Haru said, stroking his hair, instantly calming him. Rin closed his eyes, taking deep breaths, and nodded. The sound of his voice calmed him, too. “I— I’ve never done . . . anything. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Rin softly laughed. “Me either. Can we just”—he clasped Haru’s hand—“kiss for a while?”

Haru smiled. “Okay. Um . . . should I put my shirt back on?”

“Hell no.” He tickled Haru’s stomach, watching it contract under his fingertips. “C’mon, help me get mine off.”

Haru’s skin felt really good on his chest. They’d pulled the blanket over them, cuddling closer, just kissing. Rin could kiss him for hours. Rin could do nothing but kiss him for the rest of his life and he’d die happy. Haru’s hand was on his back, touching the grooves of his spine, and Rin’s hands wandered to the waistband of his pants. And then slid down just a little more to cradle his butt. _He has a great butt_ , Rin thought, as Haru shifted under his touch.

“Too much?” Rin asked, quickly moving his hand to Haru’s hip again.

“No.” Haru shook his head. “Put it back.”

He wasn’t surprised that Haru ended up spending the night. And he definitely wasn’t surprised that he’d fallen asleep first, which was fine by Rin—it meant he could watched him sleep for a while, and he could continue to marvel that Haru was in his bed. It didn’t feel real, having this man in his little home. But it _was_ , and he wanted him to be there all the time. He always wanted to lie down and feel his weight beside him, with his body warming the sheets. He loved when Haru snuggled up to him, even if he was sleeping and didn’t know he was doing it. Rin kissed his nose, and it wiggled like he would sneeze.

“I’m in love with you,” Rin whispered, hoping Haru was actually asleep.

He loved the way it sounded— _in love_.

He’d been afraid that once he said it aloud, it wouldn’t be true anymore. That the love burning inside him would dissipate, that it wouldn’t feel the same.

But as he took Haru into his arms, he knew he’d been so, so wrong.

 

* * *

 

Rin tried not to be disappointed when Haru didn’t come by the flower shop the next day. But at least he’d sent a text, which was a rarity in itself— _Sorry I have work to do_.

It didn’t tell him much of anything, but he liked getting a message from Haru, anyway.

His regular customers all pointed out how happy he looked. And they all praised the new piece of art on his wall, to which he replied, “That’s from a special someone.” And he grinned each and every time one of Haru’s greeting cards sold.

He was a little more disappointed when Haru didn’t show up during lunch the following day, either, but his text message was even more cryptic: _Meet you at the spot?_

 _Did he go out there by himself?_ Rin wondered. He’d said it was all right, but could he really find the place by himself after just one visit?

Rin replied with a simple, _ok._

Nitori was putting in more hours than Rin would’ve liked. It was his own fault—he started taking longer lunch breaks, and there were some afternoons he wouldn’t return at all. But again, Rin was checking out early for the day. Nitori gave him a knowing look, but Rin only grumbled as he head upstairs to change. He was _not_ going to hike through the woods wearing a nice, white polo shirt.

He was impatient the entire bus ride there. And when he disembarked, he nearly ran the entire way to the clearing. It was more difficult to run over a steep, rocky path than the flat sidewalks he was used to, but it was worth it when he reached the peak. When he saw the back of Haru’s head, and an easel set out before him.

“How’d you get _that_ here?” Rin asked as he approached.

Haru didn’t even turn around. “The bus isn’t as crowded after rush hour.”

Rin was being good—he resisted hugging Haru at that moment, when he had a paintbrush in hand. Instead, he peered at the canvas. He’d expected a sprawling countryside but instead, it was a painting of him at the flower shop.

“Haru?”

“It’s not done,” he said defensively.

Most of the shop was still only sketched out; Rin’s figure behind the counter was the completed aspect of the scene. He wasn’t doing anything special—there was a bouquet on the countertop that he seemed to be putting together, and there was a small smile on his face. Rin didn’t know how he knew, but it was obvious that his figure on the canvas was aware of Haru’s presence.

“How do you _do_ that?” Rin whispered.

“Do what?”

“Never mind.” He shook his head. “Can I watch?”

Haru finally peered over his shoulder at him. “That’s why I asked you to come.”

Rin settled on the ground, and when Haru realized that he couldn’t see well, he did the same. He propped his canvas against the easel’s legs, sitting cross-legged before it to paint.

Rin’s focus shifted from Haru to the canvas and back to Haru. His artist boyfriend kept swiping the hair from his face, which continually fell in his eyes with the soft breeze. He studied the canvas a lot, and Rin could see his mind working, trying to recall a specific memory. Then he would smile, dotting his brush in the paint as he went back to work.

“When was this?” Rin asked. It seemed too familiar—it couldn’t just be random.

Haru was dotting color on a bouquet, and when he was satisfied balanced his brush on his open case, the bristles hanging over the edge. He tilted his head at the painting, his fingers hovering over the wet painted flowers. “It’s the first time I saw you.”

Rin tried to remember. He remembered a lot of his own grumbling, making a racket around the shop so Haru would notice him. Apparently he already had.

_I’ve always been trying to get him to notice me…_

And he remembered how Haru just sat there, drawing flowers, not paying him any attention.

“You noticed me?” Rin said, his voice soft.

Haru sighed heavily. “It’s hard not to notice the cute guy behind the counter.”

Rin grumbled, turning away as his face turned red. But his curiosity overcame him. He studied the canvas again over Haru’s shoulder, and suddenly, he remembered: The chrysanthemums in the foreground, the flowers he’d so rudely moved when Haru had been drawing them.

“I don’t remember smiling,” Rin said, pointing at his painted figure. “Actually, I was kind of annoyed. You were in my way.” He poked Haru in the back. “And you didn’t talk to me.”

“Of course you were smiling.” Haru squirmed when Rin poked him again. But then Rin’s arm was around him, hand spread over Haru’s chest, and he could feel how fast his heart was beating. It still amazed him how Haru’s face could betray nothing, but he felt so much inside.

Rin kissed his jaw. “Guess I should trust your memory. You’re the artist. I’m just a florist.”

Haru scowled. “You’re not _just_ a florist.”

His voice was quieter. “You know what I mean.”

Haru suddenly turned to face him, nearly elbowing Rin in the gut. Before Rin could complain, though, Haru’s hand was on his stomach, his lips on his lips.

He thought back to that first day, and he’d never thought the boy would speak—let alone kiss him. Or go out with him. Or anything.

He thought he’d never see Haru again, after he was done with his assignment on flowers.

A stronger breeze came through, and Haru’s hair ruffled over his own forehead. Haru suddenly broke away, hiding a sneeze in the crook of his elbow. He sounded like a kitten when he sneezed.

“Your hair tickled my nose,” he said, and Rin couldn’t help but laugh.

He pulled Haru into his lap, feeling the salty breeze and studying his unfinished canvas again. It was different, seeing the flower shop from that angle. He saw what Haru saw: he saw himself, curious over the artist who sat on the floor of his flower shop.

Haru looked up at him. Rin was smiling _now_ , certainly. Haru was touching his face, and he shivered from that gentle brush of his fingers. “I heard you the other night.”

Rin lifted an eyebrow. “Eh?”

Haru looked away, his hand still on Rin’s face, but refocused now on the painting. Rin knew exactly what he was talking about, and an endless string of expletives was running through his head. But Haru was playing with his hair, a wayward strand that refused to stay tucked behind his ear. His tiny portrait was dry now, and Haru touched the delicate strokes of his hair, the same gentle way he touched the real thing.

“I fell in love when I first saw you,” Haru said. The blood rushed from Rin’s head, leaving him dizzy. He held Haru tighter, determined to never let him go. “And you were smiling, because you knew.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS GUUUUYS.
> 
> I'm so sad this is over.
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading, and thank you, Fim, for coming up with such a sickeningly sweet fic. I fell in love with florist Rin and artist Haru, just as they fell in love with each other.
> 
> Now, picture them living happily ever after in the apartment over the flower shop. yaaaaaay.
> 
> ([Here](http://letsswimtogethernanase.tumblr.com/post/89465671808) on tumblr.)


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